


Prince Charming

by TreizeLoves



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: AU, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Skinny!Steve, Starbucks, Stucky - Freeform, barnes and noble, it's only fluffy now, just a lil fluffy, otp: i'm with you till the end of the line, so many stupid cute ship names, stucky au, stucky fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-05
Updated: 2014-10-13
Packaged: 2018-02-11 21:00:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 20,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2083032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TreizeLoves/pseuds/TreizeLoves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>some cute AU crap where Bucky is a dashing and slightly bitchy prince and pre-serum Steve is his wannabe knight in shining armor don't ask me what i'm doing i don't know what i'm doing</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"I think this cape weighs more than my sister."  
"I think you might be right, Prince James." The servant offers a humble smile as she fastens the gold chain over Bucky's collar bone, undoing a few misaligned buttons on his shirt.  
"I'm going to get shoulder pains. I'll be sore."  
"I'm sorry, your highness, but I'm afraid his majesty's orders outweigh your complaints."  
Bucky huffs and tries to replace a stray lock of dark hair as the servant brings gloves and boots.

He looks dashing, absolutely, it’s undeniable.  
But he feels like giving up, like getting back in bed, hiding under the covers and never looking out again.

“Are you satisfied, your highness?” the servant moves so he can see the mirror. She is watching his face, her nerves well masked.  
“Yes, yes, I look beautiful. As always.” He tosses a devilish smirk on to his face and smiles back.

“Then we’ll meet your father downstairs.” She bows before she leaves the room and he stares in the mirror a moment longer.  
The king is standing in the hallway outside the throne room, wearing twice as many fanciful layers as Bucky but still somehow looking more respectable. It helps that he is surrounded on all sides by five royal guards.  
Bucky’s older sister, Princess Rebecca, appears to his right, followed by her seemingly ever growing pack of ladies in waiting and preceded by two particularly terrifying guards.  
Two years ago an attempt was made on Princess Rebecca’s life and she has been kept well guarded ever since.  
Bucky, however, has no guards leading him. He had one but he was called away to protect the king during a journey and unfortunately died along the way.

Bucky wasn’t very attached to him or anything, but he is rather hurt that it’s been nearly three weeks and there has been little to no effort to replace him.  
They stand there stiffly for a good ten minutes before their guests finally arrive. Bucky thinks his fancy collar might be choking him as his father exchanges very proper greetings with the royal negotiator from the kingdom next door.  
The negotiator attempts to be as polite as possible but seems to be in a hurry and leans forward to whisper something to the king.  
The king appears to understand, turning to Bucky and Becca. “Wait in the throne room, my children, it seems this matter has garnered a great deal more urgency than we originally anticipated.”  
It takes all Bucky has not to groan and roll his eyes out of his head. All this preparation and he gets to sit around and wait like a little kid.  
Thankfully Becca is more mature, nodding, “I understand, father. I wish you well in your discussions.” She curtsies as the king turns and Bucky only remembers to bow when she shoots him a threatening glare from under her ornate hair piece.  
 They’re only allowed to move once the king is completely out of sight. When he is, Bucky drops entirely the few formalities he was holding and drags his feet into the throne room, behind his sister.  
With the doors safely shut behind them she turns and lightly smacks the back of Bucky’s head.  
“I swear if you weren’t a prince people might mistake you for an ass!” She says, scolding, menacing even, but unable to keep the lightheartedness from seeping into her tone.  
“Ow! I was being nice! At least--nice for me! Not everyone can be a pretty princess like you, Bec.” He sticks his tongue out at her.  
“You could at least _try_ , Bucky. I saw you roll your eyes at father.”  
He winces. “Oh man, thought I caught that before it happened.”  
“You mustn’t want it to happen at all! Though it is unrelentingly tedious, these are important matters. The matters of a kingdom you may very well rule someday if I ever achieve that which I wish to.” Becca sighs and looks towards one of the long windows wistfully.  
Bucky smiles. Though he’s heard about her dreams of adventuring and discovering new lands enough times to groan at the mention of it, it still makes him feel fonder of her sometimes. She has such a passion in her heart, such a fire behind her eyes.  
He can tell, when she looks out the window like a daydreaming schoolgirl, he can see the adventures, he can see she truly believes, to her it’s not just dreams.  
Their combined musings are interrupted by the door creaking open and a slight clatter as a guard hurries over to Bucky’s throne.  
The guard is very small and trembling ever so slightly, standing diligently to the right of Bucky’s seat.  
Becca smiles. “Looks like they finally remembered that new guard you’ve been needing.”  
“About time.” Bucky huffs and turns sideways in his throne, tossing his legs over one arm and leaning his back against the other.  
“Don’t be so sour, Bucky. You and I both know the kingdom is lacking in luxuries right now, not just for you but for everyone.”  
“Easy for you to say! Two guards have you everywhere you go, I could have been murdered by now!” Bucky tosses his hands in the air, though he’s not really that angry. Compared to his beloved sister and sternly ruling father, no one really cares about him, especially not enough to have him assassinated.  
Becca shoots him a glare. “It’s not like it’s fun to be accompanied everywhere--though I do honestly mean no offense,” she adds as she turns towards her guards with a sympathetic face, which is returned by one of them. The other just glares.  
“I would give many things to be looked upon as a strong, young prince, Bucky, not a daydreaming damsel.”  
“If only I could spend more time as a daydreaming damsel, I should be a thousand times more complacent without half so many oppressive expectations weighing on me.” Bucky sits his chin on his fist and pouts.  
Becca is opening her mouth to say something, likely slightly scolding but also reassuring, when there’s a knock and the door opens again.  
A servant hurries to Becca’s throne and murmurs something to her. Her face grows grim and she nods quickly, rising to her feet.  
“Sorry, my brother, looks like you will be daydreaming alone for the duration of this meeting.” She gives him an apologetic nod before leaving with the servant leading and the guards in tow.  
As soon as the door is shut behind them Bucky groans dramatically. It makes his new guard glance back at him with worry but he quickly looks away again when he realizes it was just Bucky’s way of complaining.  
The small action is all it takes though, reminding Bucky that he’s a whole human being and can therefore be used for entertainment.  
“Turn towards me.” Bucky orders, confidently, sitting upright in his chair.  
The guard obeys without hesitation, his sword holstered at his side, his helmet under his right arm.  
Bucky looks him up and down, meaning to be intimidating but he is too easily distracted by the little locks of golden hair slipping out from under the guard’s chainmail hood.  
The guard readjusts his grip on the helmet. He’s shaking like a leaf.  
Bucky blinks and smiles slightly. “You don’t seem like much of a guard.”  
“I’m the best guard I can be, your royal highness.” He keeps his eyes fixed on the floor behind Bucky’s feet and speaks quietly.

Bucky wonders what on earth they might have told him to make him so terrified. “You can treat me like anyone else, you know.”  
“I’m afraid I can’t, your royal highness.”  
“Why not?”  
“You’re the prince, I would be beheaded, your royal highness.”  
“I wouldn’t them do that. I might challenge you to a fight if you piss me off though.” Bucky bites his lip with a smile.  
The guard looks up and straight at Bucky, revealing lively blue eyes and flashing a dazzling smile. “Well, your royal highness, that’s a fight I could win.”  
Bucky scoffs, the only thing keeping him from choking on surprise is the warm sense of delight washing over him, even as the guard quickly drops his eyes again. Now he is shaking less but Bucky can see his small chest heaving with measured breaths.  
Bucky sits in stunned silence long enough for the guard to turn around and step away, moving back to his set post.  
“Prove it.” Bucky finally says, eyes fixed on the guard, grin suppressed only by biting his lip.  
“Excuse me, your royal highness?” The guard responds, still staring straight ahead, back to Bucky.  
“Prove you can win.”  
“I’d rather not,” there’s a hint of attitude before the guard quickly adds: “if that’s alright with you, your royal highness.”  
“Why not?” Bucky leans forward with his elbows on his knees.  
Bucky can see a chuckle shake the guard’s shoulders. “Because that would definitely get me beheaded.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay in case it's not obvious i've got a first class ticket for the crazy train so please don't expect good fic just be like aw cutie steve in a little helmet with a sword aw okay

Bucky tries to mess with the guard more but he has a stiff resolve. It’s not long though before the door opens and his sister and father sweep in.

Bucky stands, the guard bows low.  
“Though matters are by no means resolved, they are moving in the right direction. We are done for today.” He gracefully waves to the door and Bucky half bows, grateful for the dismissal. He hurries out of the room as politely as he can, with the new guard following him.  
Once safely out of sight he half jogs to the spiral staircase, holding the ornamental sword holstered at his side so it won’t clatter. The guard is a little noisier.

Bucky takes the steps two at a time but slows nearly to a halt as he sees the servant waiting politely by his door.   
“Assistance with undressing, your highness?” She offers, curtseying low.  
“No, thank you, you’re dismissed.” Bucky smiles as she leaves then bounces into his room, leaving the door ajar so the guard can follow. Then he strips away his fineries as fast as he possibly can.  
He tosses the fur cape on the floor, trying to simultaneously unbutton his gold buttons and unclasp his belt.  
The guard politely turns his back and Bucky forgets about him until he croaks out: “Per…permission to sit down, your…rr…sir…” He tries to rush the words but they fade away as he slumps and falls to the floor, wheezing softly.  
Bucky lets out a startled half-yelp and fumbles for a moment, not at all sure what to do, but finally he rushes over and kneels next to the guard, while still half out of his shirt, his pants unbuttoned.  
The guard is breathing, so he’s not dead, that’s good, Bucky thinks, maybe, he’s never experienced anything like this before. The sick and dead are hidden from him, he’s the prince.   
“Um,” Bucky tries to gently tug the small body into his lap. He succeeds and the guard tries to open his eyes but instead they just flicker.  
“…mff…fine, fine…I’m fine.” He mumbles, still panting and draped over Bucky’s legs.  
“What’s wrong?? Should I get someone? Should I get a doctor??” Bucky tries to think about when he’s been sick. Usually he would just wait until a servant came and then complain.  
The guard looks up and waves his hand at Bucky, “just can’t breathe,” he huffs and tugs at the collar of his chainmail. “just heavy…” he closes his eyes again.  
“It’s too heavy? Should I take it off?”   
The guard moves his head. Bucky can’t tell if he’s nodding or shaking his head.

Bucky decides he doesn’t care and stands, shutting and locking the door before carefully lifting the poor little guard into his bed and trying to figure out how to remove his chainmail shirt.  
He gets it pretty fast, it just slides off, and the guard draws in a deep breath as soon as it’s removed.

Bucky relaxes and tosses the chainmail aside.

His breaths are coming in more even now, not so much panting and wheezing. He’s wearing a plain white cotton shirt and black pants. Bucky thinks the pants are supposed to be tight, that’s how they are on all the other guards, but on him they’re just a bit loose, being held at the waist with some old rope.  
Bucky thinks that’s sort of cute in passing, and now that the guard is breathing normally he steals a chance to really look at him.

His hair is golden, like dust caught in shafts of sunlight. He looks even tinier without the chainmail and Bucky can see tanned and freckled skin on his neck and shoulders around the collar.  
After a moment the guard’s eyes open and he sits up, blinking a little. Bucky can almost see tangible mortification spreading across his face as he glances at the discarded chainmail then the bed, realizing what’s happened.  
“O-oh my god,” he stammers turning and seeing Bucky, sitting next to him on the bed. He opens his mouth but before he can say a thing Bucky speaks. “Are you alright?” Bucky’s blue eyes are turned on him, filled with curiosity.

“I’m fine, I mean—did anyone—how long—“ He looks around the room miserably.  
“Does this happen a lot?” Bucky leans closer, glancing up and down the guard like he’s broken.  
“No—well, yeah, I…I thought I was getting better.” Sadness seeps into his voice and looks down at his hands. “It’s just, the chainmail’s so heavy, and—and I wasn’t expecting you to run up all those stairs—“

Bucky’s cheeks flush. “I’m sorry, I hate formal clothes, actually I hate formal everything.” He laughs nervously. “Don’t tell anyone.”  
The guard looks at him, bright blue eyes going wide. “Y-you’re telling _me_ not to tell anyone?”  
Bucky laughs again, a little less nervous. “Okay, a deal, I won’t tell anyone about this and you won’t tell anyone how much being a prince sucks.”  
The guard stares in disbelief then slowly nods without looking any less shocked.  
“I mean, it only matters if I tell someone, right?” Bucky continues, “You’re okay now that I took the chainmail off, right?”  
The guard nods quickly. “Yeah, I’m alright, I’m gonna be fine.”  
“Good, I didn’t want to have to wait for another new guard.” Bucky hops up and finishes taking his formal shirt off. “Besides, I don’t even know your name yet!”  
Bucky wiggles off his boots then turns and looks back at the guard, who is sitting on the bed still staring at him.

“…what?” the guard says, blinking a little like he’s just come out of a daze.  
“Your name. What is it?” Bucky watches him closely.  
He shakes his head to clear it then says: “Steven, but, please, uh, just say Steve.”

Bucky watches Steve’s cheeks get rosy, likely at the embarrassment of having so much trouble communicating his own name. Bucky just smiles though, drawing closer to lean against the four-poster bed. “I guess you already know my name.”  
“Of course, Prince James—“ he cuts off with a little gasp, clambering out of bed to sweep into a low bow. “I haven’t been properly addressing you, your royal highness, please forgive me.”  
Bucky wrinkles his nose. “Don’t bother, ever, that crap’s as stuffy as the clothes. You can call me Bucky.”  
Steve straightens slowly, watching Bucky very closely. “Are you sure, your roy…Bucky?”  
Bucky smiles. “Yeah, I’ll call you Steve.”  
“Okay, I’d, I’d really like that.” Steve flashes his brilliant smile and Bucky grins back.  
Steve slowly turns and lifts his chainmail but Bucky swiftly moves close and takes it away from him. “Don’t bother with that. I locked the door, no one will see. Besides, what’s the point if you’re just in here with me?”  
Tension melts from Steve’s small shoulders. “There isn’t one. But they make us wear it all the time.”  
“Who?” Bucky drapes the chainmail over the end of the bed and retrieves a set of soft pants from his wardrobe.  
“The head of the guard. And his assistant. They decide everything we do, they assigned me to protect you.” Steve picks his helmet up off the floor and stares at his reflection sadly. “Lousy job I’m doing, huh.” He mumbles, more to himself than Bucky.  
Bucky changes pants then draws close again to pluck the helmet from Steve’s grasp. “Meh, I can’t say I was expecting much. Look at you.”  
“I _can_ fight though!” Steve insists a little desperately. “Or…at least I can take a few punches while you escape and it’s okay ‘cause that’s exactly what I’m supposed to do if you’re in trouble.”  
“And you volunteered for that?” Bucky scrunches his face as he tosses himself on to his bed.  
“I wanted to protect people, and I wanted to do good for the king.” Steve shrugs sheepishly and Bucky smiles. He’s got the heart of a knight in shining armor, even if actual shining armor would crush him to death.  
There’s a long pause and Steve seems a little unsure of what to do with himself so Bucky nods to the space on the other side of the enormous bed. “You can sit down. Take off your gloves and boots too, no need to be uncomfortable.”

Steve hesitates but slowly does as he is told, removing his metal plated gloves and boots before sitting on the very edge of the bed.  
“It’s not so bad, passing out on your first day,” Bucky muses as he leans back.

Steve blushes and looks down at his hands.  
“I mean, it’s a whole hell of a lot more interesting than my last guard. He was a good guy but ugh, he just stood there all day, slept at night, thank god, then did it all over again the next day. Bec’s got it rough though, she’s got extras so her guards watch her while she sleeps, too. You don’t need to do that to me, okay?” Bucky smiles at Steve.   
Steve nods, smiling only slightly because he can’t tell how much Bucky is joking.

“But, more interesting things, that’s fun, maybe not passing out again, though that was a good distraction from all this bullshit with the kingdom next door.”  
Steve looks up, attentive to the sensitive subject of ‘the kingdom next door’.  
Bucky carelessly chats, fiddling with a decorative wood carving of the letter J. “The queen over there is crazy. She keeps saying we’re sending people to attack her and we’re not sending people to attack her, I mean, we don’t even have enough to protect ourselves!” He tosses his hands in the air in exasperation then pauses and drops them. “You know, I can’t remember if I should have told you that or not. I mean, obviously you know we don’t have enough anything. Especially guards, actually, is that why they hired you? ‘Cause they’re desperate?” Bucky cocks his head and looks at Steve with a playful smile.  
Steve laughs, though it doesn’t sound like he thinks it’s funny. “They’ll hire anyone. They assigned me to protect you ‘cause they’re desperate.”  
“Lucky you, I’m the most charming royalty in this place. Way less boring than my sister.” Bucky hops up. “Hey, wanna see everything I've stolen from the library??”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Bucky engage in a little playful and maybe arousing wrestling match.

“It seems like it’s always cloudy.” Steve’s bright eyes scan the grey skies before he looks back at Bucky, who seems to be ignoring him while trying to jump from one small stone bench to the next. Even losing his balance and fumbling like an idiot he’s beautiful and Steve wonders how he even got here, protecting the royal prince.  
“I think it’s ‘cause the people are all sad.” Bucky says after a long pause, hopping back to the ground and walking up to Steve. “The sun used to shine when I was a kid.”  
“You think the sun could be discouraged just by sadness?”   
“Of course. I know I am.”  
Hearing Bucky say that kind of breaks Steve’s heart but Bucky is trotting away before he can say anything, plucking a rose and tossing the petals in the air. “Come on,” Bucky grins, “let’s play in the hedges!” He runs off towards the hedge maze that thankfully only takes up about a quarter of the courtyard. Steve follows, holding the hilt of his sword and focusing on breathing in and out nice and deep. He’s been hypersensitive to changes in his breathing patterns ever since passing out his first day, possibly the most embarrassing event in the history of his entire life.   
To be fair, he wasn’t expecting Prince James to be so stunningly gorgeous in person and just being around him made it kind of hard to breathe. Getting to know him has eased Steve’s nerves a lot. He isn’t the chivalrous noble Steve had imagined back in training, he’s a total dork actually but Steve thinks he might like that better. After Steve had regained consciousness that first day Bucky had talked to him for hours, showing him books and knickknacks that were strictly not to be removed from the library, which seemed to make Bucky that much more delighted that they now resided in his closet, swiped and collected on boring days. Steve remembers thinking Bucky acted like he’s never had any friends.

Steve realizes now it’s because he hasn’t.

“You’re sooo slow!” Bucky is sitting in a circular patch of garden, surrounded on all sides by tall hedges.  
Steve tries to subdue his panting as he catches up and sits across from Bucky, still clutching the hilt of his sword.  
“Do you even know how to use that thing?” Bucky’s eyes narrow, staring at the sword. Bucky has been casually questioning Steve’s capability for protecting him ever since the first day. It tries Steve’s patience more than anything else but it helps him to remember Bucky didn’t have any friends as a kid and never learned how to be nice.  
“Yes, I had to train with it for months.”  
“Show me!” Bucky leans forward, eyes glittering with curiosity.  
Steve blinks and slowly, carefully, draws the sword. “Like this?”  
“Yeah and show me how to use it too!”  
Steve can’t help but smile when Bucky looks at him like that. “Where? It’s just flowers and bushes here. Didn’t you get trained in proper swordsmanship? You’re a noble.”  
Bucky scowls like a spoiled child. “No. It’s a long story, but the short version is my dad is evil and hates me.”  
Steve laughs which makes Bucky smile, though Steve’s not totally sure if Bucky was joking.  
“Can I see it?” Bucky holds a hand out.  
Steve frowns. “Do you know anything about swords at all?”  
“No, not really. I've only ever held that dumb decorative one that goes with my outfit. And it’s as dull as a stick.”  
“You probably shouldn’t touch this then. I wouldn’t want you getting hurt.”  
“Oh, come on!”   
Steve slides the sword back into his sheath. “It’s pretty sharp now. It was dull when they gave it to me but I sharpened it myself.” His eyes shine with pride.  
“Why would they give you a dull one?” Bucky cocks his head to the side and Steve’s heart flutters a little. Goddammit he’s pretty.  
“Well, none of the stuff in the Royal Guards’ Armory is in very good shape but also, they don’t really like me.”  
“Why not?”  
“They don’t think I can protect you—“  
Bucky snorts. “Well I’m with them on that one.”  
“Hey!”  
“You passed out after a few stairs!”  
“I can still fight!”  
“Prove it.”  
“Bucky, I already told you—“  
“Fight me.”  
“What?”  
“I challenge you to a fight. I win, I get to hold your sword.” Bucky grins, daring Steve with his eyes.  
“I can’t fight you!”  
“So you can’t protect me.”  
“That’s not what I said!”  
“Well, it’s all I’m hearing, guess you’ll have to win to prove me wrong.” Bucky springs forward and pounces on Steve, knocking him backwards playfully.

Steve yelps then laughs, pushing Bucky off.  
Bucky stands, bouncing on his feet, clearly not satisfied.  
Steve figures there’s no harm in some fun and rises to his feet, pulling off the belt that holds his sheath and carefully tossing his sword into the stone planter full of flowers nearby.  
Bucky lunges again and he and Steve both tumble over on to the grass, rolling around and laughing between grunts and cheerful trash talking.  
Steve puts up an admirable fight, obviously more than Bucky was expecting because his eyes get wide and he has to struggle to keep the upper hand.  
He gets Steve pinned after a few minutes, sitting on his slender hips and holding his wrists against the ground.

Their laughter bubbles away as they pause to stare at each other. Steve’s chainmail hood has slipped off and there are a couple of blades of grass in his hair, his cheeks all rosy pink with the effort of wrestling around.

He realizes things are quickly spiraling out of his control as he gazes up at Bucky, his heart beating even faster. Bucky is leaning over him and loose strands of dark hair have slipped from his tiny ponytail in the struggle. His eyes are focused on Steve’s and his red lips are parted just slightly while he pants.  
Steve’s neck and ears start getting rosy to match his cheeks and he looks for a distraction, anything to move him out of this challenging position.  
He decides on a quick jab with his knee, pretending he’s just continuing the little wrestling match. It works and Bucky yelps, rearing back before laughing, “That one hurt!”  
He lunges for Steve again and Steve dodges, giggling, but Bucky slips on the damp grass and suddenly things are going horribly wrong, he falls forward, his head slamming into one of the decorative stones around the flowers.   
“Bucky!”  
Bucky slumps on the ground face down and does not move. Steve rushes over and rolls him on to his back. He’s wincing but his eyes are open and he groans, grinning at Steve. “That one _really_ hurt.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so maybe this is getting better or worse, i don't know but i'm feeling better. writing and posting fic is pretty terrifying but my heart shines when i get hits and kudos and honestly even if this is shitty it's worth it. Thanks for glancing, thanks for reading, and thanks double super extra time for leaving kudos.  
> In the next chapter: more head injuries!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Bucky deal with the aftermath of Bucky being a total dumb shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Just a warning there's a slightly jarring depiction of abuse in this chapter, hope that's okay. Other than that it's normal and more cuteness is on the way in the next chapter!

There’s already a dark purple bruise forming around the cut on Bucky’s forehead by the time they get back inside the castle. Steve had offered to carry Bucky three times but Bucky refused, arguing, “I hit my head, Steve, my legs are fine!”  
Steve would not back down about Bucky seeing a royal nurse right away though and Bucky begrudgingly agreed, mumbling that it was just because he didn’t know how to stop the bleeding.  
“Now, now, what happened, your royal highness?” The nurse said, completely relaxed as she carefully wiped the blood from Bucky’s face.  
“Nothing eventful. The grass was wet in the garden and I slipped.”   
Steve can see Bucky biting down a smile as he says it. Steve feels dizzy with shock like he did on the first day as he realizes Bucky doesn’t intend to mention the wrestling match at all.  
If anyone found out Steve would be fired immediately, which at this point he kind of feels he ought to be. But Bucky is all too keen to keep him around.  
“Does it hurt much?” The nurse asks, dabbing adhesive on to a bandage then gently holding it to Bucky’s head.  
Bucky is wincing but answers no after glancing at Steve.  
The nurse pauses, narrowing her eyes at Bucky and then turning to Steve. “Did you see this happen, sir?” She asks suspiciously.  
Steve feels like he just tried to swallow an entire apple. Does he say yes? Does he lie and say no? But even if he says yes without giving the circumstances clarifying that it was entirely his fault, isn’t that just lying by omission?  
“Yeah, he was right there, thankfully.” Bucky chimes in. “He made sure I was okay and _insisted_ I come see you immediately.”  
The nurse smiles at Bucky. “Of course he did. Well, thank you, sir, you made the right choice bringing him to me.” She says to Steve. “He’ll be fine and the bandage I put on will minimize the scar. Wear it until your next bath, your highness, the glue will wash off there.”  
“Great. I'll see you later.” Bucky heads for the door and Steve thanks the nurse profusely.  
“That wasn’t so bad.” Bucky says once they’re alone in the hall.  
“Not so bad?? Your forehead is turning purple!” Steve huffs.  
Bucky glances at his reflection in a window as they make their way up the stairs. “Just one side. It’s okay, I've been hurt before. I’m a fast healer.”  
“Being hurt is one thing, sir, being hurt by the guard who’s supposed to be protecting you is entirely another!” Steve hisses, keeping his voice low just in case, even though the corridor leading to Bucky’s room is empty.  
“You didn’t hurt me, I hurt myself, Steve. You just happened to be there.”  
“If I was there you shouldn’t have been hurt at all!” Steve resists the urge to throw his hands in the air with exasperation, following a perfectly calm Bucky into his bedroom. “I’m _supposed_ to be protecting you! And so far I've done absolutely the worst job ever!”  
“Hey Steve,” Bucky says, his voice a little softer.  
“Don’t argue with me, your highness, I shouldn’t be treated so kindly after failing at the only job I have—“  
“Steve.” Bucky says it more firmly and Steve pauses.  
Bucky steps closer and lifts his fingers to brush against Steve’s small chest. “Are you breathing okay, pal?”  
Steve blinks and looks down at himself then back up at Bucky, realizing he is definitely not. His chest rises in twitchy, shallow movements and he feels lightheaded.  
Bucky watches him with genuine concern in his eyes, which only clouds Steve’s head more.  
“I’m…I’m fine.” Steve tries to take a deep breath and feels Bucky’s hand press against his back to steady him as he sways.  
“I've—I've never not noticed it before.” He stammers and laughs nervously. “You’re such an idiot, I-I guess it’s distracting.”  
Bucky laughs and Steve can see his shoulders relax, though he stays close. Close enough to keep an arm wrapped around Steve to support him. So close.   
“You look a little pink, Steve, come on, sit down.”  
“O-okay.” Steve lets Bucky herd him over to the bed and sits quietly while Bucky calls a servant to fetch a pitcher of water.  
After a few minutes Steve is back to normal and Bucky tells him he’s actually a really good fighter and Steve laughs and asks if he won or if it’s a draw because Bucky beat himself up.

Bucky thinks that’s hilarious and it eases their nerves to laugh so they keep talking, trying to make jokes, trying to make each other smile. Steve stays on the bed because when he tries to stand to take his post by the door Bucky tells him not to, says it’s easier to talk with him close by.  
So he stays and he talks, about the weather and about horses and about how someday Bucky could rule this kingdom, which seems to make Bucky a little nervous.  
They talk until Bucky puts his head on a pillow and until his eyelids droop low enough for his eyelashes to cast shadows on his cheeks.  
And gently, Steve suggests: “You ought to sleep, your highness.”  
“Bucky.” He mumbles.  
Steve smiles down at him, wishing he didn’t think he was the most beautiful thing in the world, wishing his eyelashes weren’t so dark and his messy hair weren’t so perfect.  
“You need to sleep, Bucky.”  
Bucky sighs. “I know, I know. You rest, too. I suppose I wore you out today.”  
Steve stands. “I don’t mind it.”  
“Good. See you tomorrow, Steve.”  
Steve opens the door. “Goodnight, sir.”  
“Bucky.” He croaks as he cuddles into a pillow and Steve chuckles as he shuts the door behind him.

* * *

Steve doesn't regret staying up late to talk with Bucky, even though he has to get up before sunrise the next morning. Bucky doesn’t know but as the lowest ranking guard he has several annoying duties in addition to protecting the prince. Thankfully Bucky doesn’t wake up early so it leaves him time to pull on his shirt and pants and head down to the Royal Guards’ Building about 50 yards from the castle. The building houses the Royal Guards’ Armory and the Royal Guards’ Stables, though the Chief of Guard and his assistant are the only ones who have horses. Steve polishes several sets of armor and brings feed to the horses. He’s brushing a bit of dirt out of the assistant’s horse’s mane when he hears the door creak open and looks around.

The Chief of Guard and his assistant have both just entered, in full armor. Steve feels exposed in just his shirt and pants but he’s not actually required to be in uniform when he’s not protecting the prince.  
He goes back to brushing the horse but his throat constricts with panic when the Chief of Guard comes towards him, standing uncomfortably close.  
“Good morning, Steven.” He says warmly.  
“Good morning, Sir Alexander.” Steve keeps his head low, willing himself to be brave.  
“How are you doing, Steven? Looks like we might get some sunshine. I think it’s going to be a fine day; definitely better than yesterday.”  
Steve thinks very hard about not trembling.  
“Speaking of yesterday, Steven,” he draws out the last syllable and Steve swallows. “I talked to a very kind servant yesterday and she said the prince has an awful bruise on his head.”  
Steve stares at the hay covered floor. “He fell, sir.”  
“And did it hurt him, Steven?”  
“Yessir. He hit his head but he’s going to be alright.”  
“So, let me get this straight, you’re telling me that the prince, the king’s son, fell and hit his head hard enough to bruise it and go to the nurse, _on your watch_?”  
Steve’s heart pounds and there is a long pause before he slowly nods because he knows what comes next.  
The chief strikes him hard across the face and knocks him to the floor.  
“Get up, Steven.”  
He struggles and tries not to whimper, forcing himself up again.  
The chief hits him again, then lifts him up by the collar to hit him twice more. Then he drops him in the hay and leaves, saying nothing more than, “I expect better from you, Steven.” On his way out.  
Steve lies on the ground shaking for what seems like forever before finally pushing himself up and stumbling back to the castle. His head is throbbing and he thinks his vision isn’t quite reliable but he has to clean up and get into uniform before Bucky wakes, so he ignores it.  
The stairs are the hardest part. His room is adjacent to Bucky’s, both of which are on the third floor. He’s not sure what time it is when he stumbles to his tiny wardrobe and pulls out his chainmail with quivering fingers; though judging by the shafts of sunlight coming through his window it’s late morning. If that is sunlight, he’s kind of seeing stars right now. Either way Bucky will probably be up soon, if not already—

There’s a knock on the door, Steve barely thinks clearly enough to raise his head and look over before Bucky is bounding in.  
“Steve! Are you awake?? You weren’t waiting outside my door like usu…” Bucky stops dead in his very cheerful tracks, staring at Steve like someone’s just stabbed him in the heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so so much to anyone and everyone who has bothered to give this more than a glance, it really honestly has kept me going knowing that strangers on the internet like my stuff.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Bucky mend each other, physically and emotionally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guys!!!! I am so sorry this chapter is late, I injured my hand and it means I'm a bit slower typing but I'll try to keep up a steady pace.  
> I also apologize because the chapters keep getting longer ^.^; it's kind of unavoidable as we hit actual story and I hope it's not an inconvenience!

“What the hell happened to you?!” Bucky rushes to Steve, pulling the chainmail from him and half throwing it back into the closet. For a moment he is just fuming but then he quickly encircles Steve with his arms because he doesn’t look too steady.  
Steve mumbles at him unintelligibly, sort of reaching up to touch his own face where his lip and cheek have swollen.  
Bucky is overwhelmed with piercing sadness then barely containable anger, as if someone chopped up his heart and then used it for firewood.  
“Stay here. You hear me that’s an actual princely order you stay here and don’t move!” Bucky’s voice is saturated with concern as he lets Steve go and sprints down the hall, jumping the steps on the spiral staircase till he’s in the underground corridor that leads to the kitchens.  
He grabs a bucket of ice and the softest towel he can find before yanking open the door to the pantry and rifling through the herbs.  
After a bit of searching he finds what he’s looking for, he recognizes it from his childhood, a servant gave it to him for a toothache. He’s not sure what it is but he knows it makes you feel numb and loopy.  
He runs back up to Steve’s room, clutching everything and panting by the time he gets there.  
Steve is on the floor, slumped against the wall beneath the wide stone windowsill.  
Bucky sets everything down, sliding on to his knees next to Steve, who seems to be alright other than looking like he got trampled in the stables. Bucky pauses and wonders if he did get trampled in the stables and maybe this is more serious than he realized.  
“Steve? What happened? Here, eat this while I get a nurse.”  
Steve’s head snaps up. “No, no…”  
“What?”  
“Don’t tell anyone, don’t…please don’t tell…” he grabs Bucky’s wrist urgently. “Please,”  
Bucky nods slowly and sets the jar of herbs down, standing and carefully lifting Steve to sit on the windowsill so they’re eye to eye.  
“I won’t tell. Let me see.” He carefully tilts Steve’s face towards him and silently quells the spike of anger as he sees bruises on both sides. This wasn’t an accident.  
Steve’s eyes are closed, his small chest rising and falling slowly, which makes Bucky feel better as he realizes Steve can breathe okay, then worse as he realizes Steve is breathing deeply on purpose because it hurts.  
“Here. Eat this.” He pulls a few leaves from the jar and Steve takes them and sticks them in his mouth.  
Bucky takes a deep breath, trying not to remind himself that he has absolutely no idea what he is doing and is just guessing from memory of every time he got hurt.  
He wraps the cloth around a handful of ice and very carefully presses it to Steve’s cheek.

Steve makes a soft sound like a happy puppy and leans into it.  
Bucky relaxes some and simply stands there, for around ten minutes, just holding the ice to Steve’s face.  
The ice is melting and his arm is numb when Steve sits up a little, opening his eyes but only half way. “Wow that was good, so good, what did you give me--” Steve giggles slightly, “--prince Bucky?”  
Bucky relaxes more, both glad the herbs have taken effect and feeling kinda bad for giving Steve something so strong. He frowns at the unmarked jar and swallows. Steve is pretty small, maybe he shouldn’t have given him so much?  
He really doesn’t actually know anything about taking care of anyone, not even himself. Maybe he _should_ go get a nurse, Steve is beat up pretty bad.  
But the swelling has already gone down, even if the bruises have gotten more visible. Bucky struggles internally until Steve starts babbling again.  
“Gosh, Buck, you look so pretty. It seems like no matter where we go the sun’s always shining on you.” Steve is gazing intently at him, his lively blue eyes warm and earnest.  
Bucky blinks and looks up at him, having not really heard him. “What’d you say?”  
“Aw, nothing,” Steve blushes rose pink and looks down at his hands. “I can’t tell you.”  
“Tell me what?” Bucky leans closer, fitting perfectly into the patch of wall between Steve’s knees.  
“Well, I guess it’s kind of a secret, but I can barely keep it, it keeps getting harder.” Steve’s ears turn pink too and he rubs the back of his neck.  
For less than a thousandth of a second Bucky feels guilty and thinks maybe he shouldn’t be letting Steve tell him secrets when he’s not in his right mind.  
The feeling passes.  
“Why can’t you keep it?” he presses, leaning closer with his hands resting on the windowsill on either side of Steve’s thighs.  
“’Cause you’re just so wonderful.” Steve looks at him again with that dazzling, sunrise bright, honest smile. “I want to make you laugh every day and I think it’s funny you’re so useless cause you’re a prince—“  
“Hey!”  
“And when you smile at me I can’t breathe, well, I guess I can’t breathe even worse than normal and sometimes, when you're not smiling you look at me with your eyes all fulla sky and your lips so red…” Steve trails off slowly, his eyes resting on Bucky’s lips.  
Bucky’s heart pounds in his chest as realization washes over him. “What do you mea—“  
But then Steve is leaning forward, just the extra couple inches and kissing him, a little loopy and messy but just unimaginably sweet and Bucky is startled and he can’t think straight, but for a moment or two he dare not pull away because it just feels so perfect.  
Eventually though, his head starts forming coherent thoughts again. He’s overwhelmed with questions, is this how Steve really feels? Is he just high on mystery plant and pain? Has Bucky always been so quick to worry and take care of him? How does Bucky even feel towards Steve?  
He gently breaks the kiss, his palm on Steve’s chest.  
Steve sighs gently, like he was holding his breath and slowly looks up at Bucky.  
Bucky blushes bright red. “I-I think um, I think I really liked that but I’m not really sure if that was Steve Steve or all messed up Steve so, so I’m gonna take you to my room, where the bed is soft and, and you’re gonna get some rest, okay?”  
Steve nods.  
Bucky swallows and tries to ignore his heart still pounding in his chest as he tenderly scoops Steve up and carries him back to his bedroom, after checking there’s no one around to see them.  
Bucky tries to leave Steve on the bed but Steve won’t let go of him. “No, no, no, stay in the bed.”  
Bucky hesitates. “Are you sure?”  
“Yeah, yeah, that way I can protect you. ‘Sides, it’s easier to talk with you close by.”  
Bucky softens and slowly slips into the bed with him. Steve wraps his arms around Bucky’s waist and sticks his head on Bucky’s chest. Bucky looks down at him, hoping his heart isn’t beating too loudly, wondering how long he’s been clueless, wondering if holding Steve should feel so absolutely right.

 

* * *

Steve slowly opens his eyes. He doesn’t remember going to sleep.  
He doesn’t move, trying to figure out where he is and what’s going on. There are vague images in his head but he’s still sleep groggy.  
His pillow floats up a little then sinks back down again. He is alarmed and disconcerted until he realizes that his pillow is in fact Bucky’s chest— _oh my god, Prince James’s chest!_  
He tries to sit straight up but makes it only halfway, because his arms are still around Bucky’s waist.  
Bucky lifts his head and blinks at him, his eyes full of relief. “Steve.”  
Steve slowly lets go of Bucky, remembering Chief Pierce hitting him, remembering Bucky finding him, and helping him?? Things are wobbly, he remembers Bucky being wonderful and gentle and the way the sunlight coming in the window seemed to be shining just to illuminate Bucky’s perfect form— _oh my god again!_  
“Bucky, I-I—Prince James, I’m so sorry, I-I was _not_ thinking clearly. Bucky—sir, I should not have acted—“  
Bucky sits up, looking sad. “So…it was just the herbs, then?”  
Steve stares and his head is processing at least a thousand thoughts a second, 9,999 of which seem to be ‘oh god you’re so beautiful please don’t be sad.’  
“Is that what you gave me?”  
“Yeah,” Bucky looks down, his fingers trembling. “It’s for the pain but it…messes with your head. So I guess it just messed with yours.”  
“Definitely, Bucky, I-I never would have kissed you without your permission.”  
Bucky’s head snaps up, his eyes full of their usual sparkle again. “Would you kiss me _with_ my permission?” he leans closer, his face inches from Steve’s.  
Steve swallows and stammers, not leaning back, his nose now brushing Bucky’s.  
Bucky huffs impatiently and whispers against Steve’s lips. “Goddammit Steve, kiss me now, that’s an order.”  
Steve feels like his heart is bursting with happiness at those words and kisses Bucky sweetly, reaching up to cup his face.

Bucky’s hand rests gently on his hip, the other hand supporting him on the bed as he gently guides Steve back into a horizontal position.  
For a moment it’s just pure fairytale sugar, closed mouths and a desperate need to communicate how much they adore each other but then Bucky bites Steve’s lip and Steve gasps and grabs Bucky’s side and suddenly Bucky’s tongue is in his mouth and he’s moaning because he can’t remember how to be quiet.  
It goes this way for a few minutes before Steve just barely pushes on Bucky’s chest and Bucky pulls away, straddling Steve’s hips and panting.  
“I just need a second.” Steve murmurs, trying to take a deep breath. His head is throbbing.  
“Take as long as you need.” Bucky strokes his pink cheek with his thumb, gazing down at him with affection in his eyes.  
“Bucky, I don’t remember if I said this, but I think you’re really beautiful.” Steve blurts out in a hurry.  
Bucky laughs and looks down, his cheeks still flushed. “Yeah, well I think you’re the cutest thing I ever saw. Can’t believe I didn’t think to kiss you first.”  
Steve smiles, feeling relief bloom in his chest. He feels like he’ll never be able to tell Bucky how wonderful he is too many times.  
“Wait, now that you’re normal you have to tell me what the hell happened!” Bucky says, his voice rising slightly.  
Steve looks away and slowly squirms back into a sitting position. “I got in trouble.”  
“In trouble? Like you mean someone did this to you??” Steve can see fire growing in Bucky’s eyes.  
“Yeah, but it’s okay, I think pretty I’m lucky, I deserve to be fired.” Steve fidgets and avoids Bucky’s eyes.  
“Wait, is this about my head?!” Bucky will be shouting in a minute and Steve realizes it might be too late to calm him down.  
“Who the hell did this?!”  
“Shh, Buck, it’s okay, it’s normal.” Steve rests his hands on Bucky’s.  
“This is normal for you?!” Bucky actually does shout that but his voice cracks on the tail end of it.  
Steve looks up to find tears in his eyes and feels touched. “Bucky…”  
Bucky takes a quick breath and runs a hand through his hair, his voice coming out quiet again. “I-I’m sorry I just didn’t realize until I saw you, so, so beat up, I didn’t know how much I cared,”  
Steve softens and pulls him closer, letting Bucky’s head rest on his chest.  
“I feel like such an idiot, I-I mean when I think about it you’re the bravest man I know,” Bucky holds Steve’s hand.  
Steve puts on a shiny, heroic smile. “Yeah, I am. Probably the bravest man in the whole kingdom.”  
Bucky laughs softly. “Shut up.”  
Steve smiles, feeling Bucky’s tension disappearing.  
They sit in silence for a long time before Bucky speaks. “Steve, tell me who.”  
“It’s just the Chief of Guard—“  
“I'll have him fired.”  
“Don’t. He’ll get me fired too. I need this job and I definitely need to protect you.”  
“Steve,” Bucky smiles and strokes his cheek. “I don’t think I’m the one who needs protecting.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky makes a startling discovery and maybe some new friends?

Bucky spends nearly the whole day in Steve’s arms or pressed against his lips, breaking only to playfully scold Steve for getting hay in his bed and to take separate baths.  
It’s not until after Bucky’s in his bath that he realizes they could’ve taken one together and that makes his heart beat fast.  
He insists that Steve sleep in his bed that night, especially after revisiting Steve’s room and feeling the crappy cot that he sleeps on.  
Steve argues but only halfheartedly. Bucky has a sneaking suspicion that he hoped he would be invited into Bucky’s bed.  
The next morning Bucky wakes up alone though. He hops out of bed and opens his door without bothering to change out of pajamas. He is relieved to see a uniformed guard standing right outside his door but startles backwards a little when he sees the guard is at least as tall as him, if not an inch or so taller.  
“Who the hell are you?”  
The guard looks at him. “Sir Clinton, I’m here to protect you sir.”  
“Where’s Steve??”  
“Uh, he’s off today.”  
Bucky blinks a little. “What?”  
“He’s off, he doesn’t have to work today. All of the personal guards get at least one day of leave every fortnight, otherwise they’d wear themselves out protecting you spoi…the nobles.” The guard clears his throat and adds, “Sir.”  
Bucky narrows his eyes. He’s not sure if he can trust this guard, he’s not sure he can trust any of them. Finally, mustering up his most demanding prince voice, he says, “I want to speak with the Chief of Guard. Now.”  
The guard visibly stifles a snort. “Do you want to get dressed first?”  
Bucky blinks and goes back into his room, cursing softly.  
He looks almost respectable, save the blue bruise on his forehead, by the time he gets to the Royal Guards’ Building. The Chief of Guard is leaning over a table with a map on it, talking with his assistant.  
Sir Clinton stands stiffly at the door. “Sir Alexander, the prince would like to speak with you, sir.”  
The Chief of Guard smiles warmly and sweeps over to Bucky. “What can I do for you today, your royal highness?”  
“Where’s my guard?” Bucky glares, hoping that if he hates hard enough his anger will become tangible and somehow cause Chief Pierce physical harm.  
Chief Pierce looks confused and gestures to Sir Clinton, “Right here, your highness. Is something wrong with him?”  
Bucky doesn’t buy it for a minute. “No, no, he’s fine, forget about him. Where’s Steve?”  
“Steve is at rest today, your royal highness.”  
“Good, take me to him. Now.” Bucky growls the last word but Chief Pierce is unfazed.  
“I’m afraid I can’t, your royal highness, he’s outside of town, visiting his family today.” Chief Pierce looks down on him like he should’ve known.  
Bucky blinks. He’s never asked Steve about his family. He’s never even thought about it. He has no way of telling if Chief Pierce is lying or not. “Fine.” He spits out eventually, turning on his heel and leaving with Sir Clinton in tow.  
His shoulders feel stiff and his hands twitch. He knows he is angry but somehow Chief Pierce made him feel confused as to who he should be angry with. He absolutely adores Steve, he’s sure of that but he knows nothing about him. He doesn’t know about his family, he had no idea he was treated so badly as a guard, hell the only reason he even spoke to him was because he was bored and needed a play toy.  
He clenches his fists and his thoughts are interrupted by a hesitant voice, “You okay? Uh, sir.”  
He turns back to find the new guard watching his hands.  
“What’s your name??” he demands.  
The guard looks annoyed but also concerned. “It’s Sir Clinton, like I sai—“  
“And what is your surname?”  
“Barton.”  
“Do you have a mother?”  
“No, she died when I was a kid. Are you okay?” Sir Clinton steps forward.  
“Yes.” Bucky holds up his hand, gesturing that Sir Clinton needn’t come any closer. “Yes, yes, I’m fine. Come on, I want to go into town.” He resumes a quick pace down the hall, pausing only to tell a servant to fetch two horses and have them ready at the castle gate.  
The castle is centered in the north part of the town but buffered on all sides by expansive gardens and a five foot thick wall.  
Bucky rarely ventures out into the town, partially because he’s supposed to ask his father’s permission before leaving, which he hates doing.  
This time he’s taking a risk though, managing to get outside the castle wall before his father takes any notice and trotting into the market district.  
He’s not really sure what he’s doing, wandering aimlessly for a while before tying his horse and proceeding on foot through the endless seeming stalls and booths in the market place. He’s bought a few weird fruits and a music box when he notices another uniformed guard slipping out of a nearby pub.  
A very small looking guard.  
“Are you good at bargaining?” he says to Sir Clinton.  
“What?”  
“Good, buy me this cape at half price.” He thrusts a random cape into Sir Clinton’s hands, slipping away as the shopkeeper steps between him and the bewildered guard.  
“I see you eyein’ the purple cape there, sir!” The shopkeeper declares mirthfully as Bucky hurries the same direction Steve went.  
He catches up a couple blocks away, following Steve into a deserted alleyway. He’s just reaching out to grab Steve’s shoulder when he turns around and slams Bucky against a wall, holding a knife to his throat.  
Bucky blinks at the dark hair peeking out from under chainmail, fierce blue eyes pinned on him.  
“Wait, who the hell are you?!” He demands, bewildered.  
The mystery guard releases him and steps back, sheathing his knife. “Sir Jackson. I apologize, sir, I thought you might be an attacker.”  
Bucky watches the guard, his head buzzing. Something is definitely wrong with this guard. “No, I’m sorry, I thought you were someone else.” Bucky says politely, brushing himself off.  
The guard offers a smile and nods his head. “Just a mutual misunderstanding then.”  
Bucky nods.  
“I'll be on my way then—“  
“No you won’t!” Bucky blurts out without really thinking it through. “You are no royal guard.” He steps closer, preparing for a fight even though he knows that’s absolutely the worst plan ever. The guard clearly has a knife and a sword and he’s unarmed, his soul form of protection ditched in the market place to buy a purple cape. “Not once have you addressed me properly.” Bucky says, close enough to grab the imposter if he runs.  
The guard looks down, obviously mentally cursing himself but making no move to attack or escape. “You’re the prince.”  
 “Damn right I am.” Bucky surprises himself with his bravery. Maybe Steve’s been a good influence.  
“I thought you’d be taller.” The imposter looks up at him.  
“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?!” Bucky glares then shakes his head. That’s not actually important right now. “Who the hell are you and where did you get a Royal Guard’s uniform?”  
The guard sighs and pulls down his hood. He has a bun full of black hair held at the top of his neck and sweeps a low bow to Bucky.  
“Dame Maria of her majesty’s Royal Force.”  
Bucky blinks.

She straightens and looks him in the eye. “And I stole this uniform off the guard who attacked me in my home kingdom.”  
Bucky’s brain processes slowly. “Wait, you’re from the crazy queen’s kingdom?”  
Dame Maria twitches but remains respectable. “If that’s how you refer to us, yes.”  
“Sorry. What do you mean a guard attacked you? Why are you skulking around here?”  
She glances around. “Your kingdom is not what it seems.”  
“I've noticed.”  
“There have been two attempts made on her majesty’s life, both executed by a man in the dress of your Royal Guard. If it were anyone else surely we would be at war by now but her majesty is more perceptive than that. Neither you nor your father, nor anyone else we’ve talked to around here seems to have any idea of the attempted assassinations. There is treachery amongst your ranks.”  
Bucky lets the words wash over him, staring at her. “What do you mean?”  
She appears to be resisting the urge to roll her eyes. “ _You are not safe._ ” She whispers with grave urgency.  
“Your highness!” A voice shouts and Bucky turns around. Sir Clinton is panting and standing at the mouth of the alley way, a purple cape draped over his arm. “I've been looking everywhere.”  
Bucky looks back towards Dame Maria, but she’s gone. He curses.  
“Is something wrong, sir?” Sir Clinton sounds more than a little pissed.  
“No.” Bucky answers distractedly, walking back towards the market with the guard.  
“Here.” Sir Clinton thrusts the cape at him.  
He blinks then stifles some laughter and hands it back, “Here, keep it.”  
“Wha—what do you mean—“  
“Wait, this too. You did a good job today.” Bucky fishes a coin purse out and drops it in Sir Clinton’s palm.  
Sir Clinton blinks. “Wait. Are you serious?”  
“Yeah.” Bucky flashes him a smile. He’s not really sure how much he gave him, money’s never had much use to him, but Sir Clinton looks genuinely happy and excited.  
“Thank you, your highness, thank you.”  
He shrugs as he unties his horse. “You’ve done an admirable job, Sir Clinton. Let’s ride home now.”  
“You can just call me Clint.” The guard says as he mounts his horse.

 

* * *

 

Bucky is on his way to the staircase when he hears shouting in one of the many castle parlors. He recognizes his father’s booming voice and slows down, telling Clint to hush. He steps slowly closer, pressing his ear to the door.  
“…and is he allowed to leave the castle without my permission?!” He growls.  
“N-no, your majesty.” Answers a small, trembling voice.  
Bucky frowns and opens the door to find his father looking irate and the servant who fetched his horse kneeling on the floor, shaking in her boots.  
“What’s going on??” Bucky rushes towards the servant then stops himself as his father turns on him, voice dropping low. “And where have you been, my son?”

Bucky stiffens then does his best to stand tall. “The market.”  
“I don’t recall you asking my permission before this little outing.”  
“That would be because I didn’t.” Bucky swallows but stares right at the king, not faltering.  
His father looks at him for a moment before turning to the servant again. “You’re dismissed. I never want to see you in this castle again.”  
She sobs a pitiful, “Yes, your majesty.” As she stands.  
“Dad!” Bucky rushes to her and tells her she doesn’t need to listen to him. “You can’t just do that, she didn’t do anything wrong!”  
“She let you go without permission.”  
“I-I thought he had permission.” She sniffles.  
“It’s not her fault you’re an over protective control freak!” Bucky snaps. “You can’t just take your anger out on the servants like that—you-you can’t do that to any of the staff!”  
“James, calm down. She’s just a maid.”  
“She’s a person!” Bucky’s voice cracks. “They all are!”  
King George stares at Bucky as if he doesn’t recognize him. “My son, what has come over you?”  
Bucky shoves a hand through his hair, staring back at his father with the same look of unfamiliarity. “I’m sick of being treated like a kid, I’m sick of not knowing what happens behind closed doors, dad, I'll be king some day and I feel like a foreigner in my own kingdom.”  
“James, after what happened to your sister—“  
“I was fifteen, dad! You can’t just not talk to me my whole life then expect me to understand what it is to be king! I was terrified!”  
“James, you’re being irrational, I thought when your mother passed you would grow up some, but you are naïve as ever.”  
Bucky scoffs. “Mom died when I was eight!”  
His father almost continues but is silenced by the dejection in Bucky’s eyes.  
“How can you be this way?” Bucky is almost whispering his voice is so weak. “No wonder our kingdom is falling apart.” And with that he leaves swiftly, resisting the urge to run to his bedroom like a child.  
He does mostly just lie in bed miserable once he gets there though. Clint waits outside the door without having to be told and after overcoming his tears, Bucky just stares at the wall for a while. A couple hours later a burst of anger makes him throw a few things across the room but then he just feels stupid and immature and lies in bed again.  
Orange beams of sunset stain his bed when he hears voices just on the other side of his door.  
“How was he?”  
“He was a little shit, mostly, but, I guess not so bad. He’s a good kid underneath the spoiled brat. He had a bad fight with the king though.”  
“How bad? Is he okay?”

Bucky sits up. That sounds like Steve.  
“No, he was pretty torn up. I bet seeing you would cheer him up though, he threw a hissy fit when he found out you were off today.”  
There’s a soft chuckle, a warm wonderful one that Bucky most definitely recognizes and he starts to tumble out of bed towards the door.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Buck cuddle and shit gets real

There’s a very soft knock on the door and Bucky opens it almost instantly. Steve is standing there smiling his perfect sunshine smile and Bucky could throw himself into Steve’s arms.  
But Clint is standing right there so as evenly as he can manage he says, “You can go, Clint, Steve will protect me from here.”  
Clint gives him a knowing nod anyway and leaves without needing to be prompted any further.  
Bucky yanks Steve in and half slams the door, hugging Steve close to him, wishing there was something like a hug or a kiss but ten times more powerful.  
Steve giggles and nuzzles his neck, before pulling back. “I brought you something.” He reaches into his jacket and produces a small bouquet of wildflowers.   
Steve’s cheeks get a little pink but he shines with pride. “They’re from my farm, I picked them myself. For you, I-I mean.” He blushes darker and hides his face behind the flowers. “Oh gosh, I had something to say but now I can’t think straight.”  
Bucky takes the flowers, holding them out of the way while he sweeps Steve into a passionately gentle kiss.  
Steve seems completely at ease in his arms, enjoying every bit of contact as much as he enjoys the kiss, rubbing his nose against Bucky’s as their lips part.  
“I swear to god there’s honey running through your veins.” Bucky laughs softly as he pulls Steve to sit on the bed.  
Steve remains pink but laughs with him, lifting a bag off his shoulder and into his lap.

But before he can say a thing more, Bucky is clutching his hands and leaning close. “You said you have a farm?”  
“Oh, yeah, it’s just outside the city walls. My mother lives there with my grandmother.”  
“And your father?”  
“He died when I was young. He’s buried on the farm, underneath this great old tree, it’s beautiful, I'll take you there some time.” Steve smiles and Bucky can hardly suppress his affection.  
“How can you be so content?” Bucky murmurs.  
Steve blinks. “Well, it’s not like there’s anything I can do. I used to be much sadder, yeah, but my mom helped. We both miss him still but it wouldn’t do us any good to be unhappy all day.”  
Steve smiles down as he strokes Bucky’s hands with his thumbs.  
“Besides, once he was gone I had to help mom with the farm till I was old enough to get us some money. I've been working here since I was twelve.”  
Bucky stares. “Here? You mean the castle?”  
Steve nods. “I started out in the kitchen, ‘cause I was pretty sick when I was a kid, I couldn’t do much. But Royal Guard is the highest paying job so when I got older and stronger I begged to become one. They just made me a page and had me polish stuff all day for a few years but when I got even stronger they actually started training me. I’m still not a knight though, most of the other guards are.”  
Bucky feels like an idiot. “You’ve been here all this time?”  
“Yeah. It’s been hard sometimes but it’s helped my family so much. And the cooks are nice, they took care of me when I was a kid, so long as I didn’t mess anything up, if I did, they made me eat hot peppers.” Steve laughs softly.  
“How did you even survive?” Bucky laughs too, though he feels like the most spoiled spoiled brat in the world.  
Steve blushes and looks at him. “This is gonna sound stupid but I used to pretend I was a brave prince like Prince James.”  
“Are you serious??”  
“I never met you so you seemed really cool!”  
“And what do I seem now??”  
Steve snickers.  
“Oh my god you’re such a little punk!” Bucky gives Steve’s ribs a few playful tickles and Steve laughs and tells him to stop, scooting backwards.  
They’re a mess of giggles and romping around for a minute but then Steve can’t resist the urge to kiss Bucky and Bucky responds with gusto.

Bucky moves on top of Steve and Steve gladly lets him, grabbing handfuls of Bucky’s shirt.

Bucky loves nipping at Steve’s lips and every time he does Steve makes the sweetest little noises, opening his mouth so Bucky can get inside.

Bucky gladly takes the opportunity, sucking Steve’s tongue and pressing his body closer to Steve’s.  
Steve moans and starts to slip his hands underneath Bucky’s shirt but pauses, struggling to pull away from the kiss. “Is—is it okay if—“ he pants.  
“God yes.” Bucky sits up and peels his shirt off.  
Steve lets out a shaky breath and looks a little lightheaded. “Oh my god,”  
Bucky laughs and leans back down, straddling Steve’s hips but not daring to actually rest any weight on him.  
“I—I just wanna touch you everywhere,” Steve stammers.  
Bucky smiles, carefully maneuvering them so he’s lying on his back and Steve is sitting easily on his hips. “Go ahead.”

 

This time Bucky awakens to find Steve still cuddled up against him and breathes a sigh of relief. Last night they had familiarized themselves with every inch of each other’s bodies, a mess of moans and kisses.

Afterwards they had talked for hours. Steve seemed perfectly contented to tell Bucky all about his farm and his sheep and his mother and growing up in the castle and how Bucky had been his _second_ crush. Bucky had wrinkled his nose at that but couldn’t get much explanation, Steve had just waved his hand and dismissed it--“We were best friends, he just taught me how to kiss, that’s all.”  
Bucky had told Steve he guessed he didn’t mind that much, so long as Steve was his now.

And now he’s lying here, letting the morning sun wash over him as he watches Steve’s chest expand and contract peacefully. He can only imagine what his sister would say if she knew he’d fallen in love with a sheep farmer.

And his father would say he was just a child who didn’t know a thing about love.

He takes a deep breath and tries not to think about that. Things remain unresolved with his father and he doubts they will become resolved without Bucky receiving some sort of punishment.

He takes another deep breath. If his father is inclined to punish him just for leaving the castle without permission how will he react to Steve?  
He groans and runs his fingers through his hair, which is still disheveled from Steve grabbing it last night. That brings back a few thoughts worth smiling at and he reaches down to stroke Steve’s cheek just as Steve’s eyes are fluttering open.  
The first thing Steve does is glance up and offer Bucky that sparkling smile, slowly sitting up and stretching in the fresh rays of sunlight.

Bucky couldn’t adore him more, he looks so perfect and absolutely precious sitting in his bed, naked, hair all messed up, still just as happy as could be.  
“I…” Bucky begins but the word _love_ gets caught in his throat and he just stares.  
Steve finishes stretching then blinks at him. “What?”  
“Nothing. You’re just so adorable. I want you in my bed every morning.”  
Steve giggles and cuddles back against Bucky’s side. “Me too, gosh your bed is soft.”

For a long while Bucky just strokes Steve’s hair and lies there, thinking.

Eventually Steve insists on at least getting dressed, and it's exceptionally good timing as barely moments after he and Bucky have both clothed themselves, Princess Rebecca offers a short knock then bursts through Bucky's bedroom door, her eyes full of fear.

Bucky and Steve are both startled. They may be covered but their hair is disheveled and they don't have a good explanation for being freshly dressed and grinning at each other in Bucky's bedroom.

"What the hell, Bec?!" Bucky says first, stepping forward.

"It's the other kingdom, the queen has sent a messenger with nothing but a uniform. A uniform belonging to one of our guards. It's covered in blood."

Bucky stiffens. "What do you mean?"

"She says it's proof. She says it's proof we're sending assassins. She says it's her blood." Bec swallows. "And it has to be because all of our guards are present and accounted for. But only as of last night. There was one sent away yesterday, by Chief Pierce. And we don't know what he was doing or where he and Chief Pierce are now, so we can't get a reason."

Bucky looks from Bec to Steve and back again. "Well...what's going to happen?"

"I'm not sure." Bec pauses to regain her composure, looking down at her previously trembling hands. "She is insisting an audience with father and with the proof she's sent, he doesn't really have a choice."

For a moment, they all stand in silence.

Bucky almost begins to wish he hadn't fought with the king yesterday. But then Steve steps forward and says with conviction, "Well, whatever happens, I promise I will do my best to protect you both." and Bucky realizes, he did exactly the right thing, not simply standing up to his father, but protecting someone who needed it.

Bec smiles and thanks Steve genuinely but then she glances at the mess that is his hair and there is an awkwardly long pause before she frowns.

"What have you two been up to?"

Steve and Bucky flush different rosy shades almost in unison, as if rehearsed.

"Just talking, m-miss, I mean your highness." Steve says, almost believable but ruining it a little with a stammer.

"Steve gets bored just standing out in the hallway." Bucky adds.

Bec narrows her eyes. But before she can ask anything more there is yet another urgent knock on the door. 

"Come in." Bucky prompts and a bearded servant leans in. "Your highness, your highness, and you sir,"--he nods to Steve--"The king has requested to speak with you. He says it is important that you come right away, as time is of the essence."

The man nods a tiny bow before leaving quietly and shutting the door behind him.

"Clean up." Bec nods at them as she heads towards the door. "I'll tell father you were sleeping and needed a moment to finish rising."

Bucky looks at her gratefully. "Thanks, good luck, we'll only be a minute."  
Bucky turns to Steve as soon as the door is shut, gently brushing his hair into place and straightening his belt. Steve smiles at him but only for a moment, his face quickly reflecting the gravity of the situation.

They descend to the first floor and on to the meeting room adjacent to the throne room. 

In the center of the room is a long table, sitting at its head is the king. Bec is already seated to his left and he nods at the chair to his right when he sees Bucky. Steve stands with his back to a pillar, directly behind Bucky's seat.

"James, I'm sure your sister has made clear to you the urgency of our current predicament?"

Bucky nods, tension visible in his shoulders.

"I intend to leave for the neighboring kingdom by midday. You and Rebecca will stay here, as someone must keep rule over our own kingdom. I did not intend for you to learn with a trial by fire, but a small emergency is as good a time as any to prepare for being king.

Understandably, this journey may be dangerous and so I will be taking extra precautions, Rebecca, James, one guard from each of you will be accompanying me on my trip."

Bucky nearly stands in his seat, his knees hitting the table loudly. "What?! No! My last guard died that way!"

"Your last guard died serving his kingdom, James. I should hope that would be the chosen death for your current guard as well, as it is his sworn duty." The king looks expectantly at Steve, who gulps visibly and nods.  
“No! You’re not taking him! What if—what if—“ panic rises in Bucky’s voice. “What if I need protecting while you're gone?!”  
“Be still!” King George snaps, his voice deep and his words sharp.  
Bucky trembles but sits firmly in his seat.  
“I will not have a son incapable of respecting my authority as king. Now you will sit there and you will sit quietly while I make arrangements and when I am _done_ , you may speak to me privately with your concerns.”  
“That’s not—“  
“ _James Buchanan,_ ” the king almost growls. “I will hear nothing more than a yes sir, do you understand?”  
Bucky takes a shaking breath. “Yes, sir.”  
King George sighs and shakes his head as if wondering where he went wrong then continues to address Rebecca and a few higher ranking guards seated at the table.  
After what seems like an eternity he dismisses everyone, including Steve, telling Bucky to stay behind.  
Bucky can’t decide whether he more wants to cry or to break something, but the king doesn’t give him time to do either.  
“Rise, James.”  
He stands obediently, glaring fiercely at his father.  
King George is already standing. He turns slowly, making his way to a long wooden box resting on a table next to the back wall of the room.  
Curiosity sooths the rage within Bucky, but only slightly.  
King George, opens the box and slowly removes a sword, turning back to Bucky and extending it to him.  
“I had hoped to give you more time to prepare…”  
Bucky blinks, falling back a step. “Wait, what? You’re giving me a sword? I-I don’t even know how to use it!”  
“I did not intend to take one form of protection without leaving you with another. Take it, my son. But use it only if you must.”  
“Dad—I can’t take this—I mean—“  
“James.” He interrupts firmly. “You must be prepared if I do not return.”  
Bucky stops arguing and looks up, directly into his father’s eyes. He can feel black, all consuming fear swirling in his stomach and he desperately wants to argue, to insist if it’s that dangerous then he shouldn’t be going and neither should Steve.  
But contrary to the usual ferocity found in King George’s eyes, now all Bucky can see is compassion and sadness.  
He carefully takes the sword. “I…” he tries to swallow the cracks in his voice. “I understand.”  
His father offers a bittersweet smile. “I do love you my son, even when I cannot even begin to fathom the matters of your head and your heart.”  
Bucky throws himself into a hug, before he can really even think about it. “Please come back, dad.”  
King George returns the embrace, offering no promises but saying he always favors diplomacy over war.

Bucky is not allowed a chance to say a private goodbye to Steve. They are given only a moment, standing in the massive doorway that is the entrance to the castle, the king’s envoy waiting next to them. The king’s envoy consists of horses, guards, and supplies for the three day trip.  
Bucky leans close to whisper in Steve’s ear, “So, I guess with this audience a kiss is out of the question?”  
Steve smiles but can’t seem to muster a laugh. “We’ll have to make up for it when I get back.”  
Bucky’s face falls. “You better come back.”  
“Ready, men!” a guard shouts from the front of the group and Steve quickly turns and joins the rest of the guards on foot.  
Bucky starts to go after him but Bec stops him gently with a hand on his arm. “They have to go, Bucky.”  
“But, no, shit, I have to tell him, he can’t trust the guards, I have to tell him—“ he stops short and looks back at Bec, who only looks puzzled.  
“What are you babbling about, Bucky?”  
He pauses, before pulling away and walking back into the castle. “Nothing. It’s nothing, I’m just worried about dad.”  
Bec sighs, still staring after the group. “I’m worried about all of them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good afternoon, all!! Props to anyone still reading this, I'm very very sorry about the hiatus and don't have any good excuse other than being very very busy and then very very sad.   
> I doubt I will be able to go back to a chapter daily but I will do my best to add at least one chapter a week till this piece of crap is finished.  
> Thank you, thank you and thanks again, every kudos I get is another little ray of sunshine shining on my heart and I would love to do anything I can to thank you guys.  
> You can contact me with prompts, requests, fics needing proofreading/critiquing, and anything else your little heart desires right here at http://huffleprincess.tumblr.com/


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit's gettin real. Becca is a boss ass bitch. Steve and Bucky seem ever longing to be reunited.

Both siblings have difficulty sleeping that night, Bucky tossing and turning in his bed while Becca peruses the library below.

In the morning, neither of them is well rested, and the normally relaxed aura that fills the castle when their father leaves is ruined by the general anxiety of the situation.

Becca spends the day taking long, slow walks up and down the corridors mostly, while Bucky jitters about his room in fits and spasms of anger, anxiety, paranoia, anger again, and finally the simplicity of missing Steve.

He tries several things to ease his nerves, walking in the garden, following Bec into the library, badgering the cooks for food he knows they can't make. He even tries sitting down to write a letter to Steve but he only manages two sentences. After wasting almost the entire day this way, he confesses to Becca he feels exhausted from a sleepless night and a restless day and says he'd like to turn in early and not be bothered. She wishes him only a more restful slumber.

Bucky has been tucked and sleeping on and off again for hours when there is a knock on Becca’s door. She hasn’t even been trying to sleep, just lying in bed, scheming, thinking, hoping.

The door opens just enough to reveal a nervous maid. "Your royal highness? It's Chief Pierce, says he's just returned from a trip, says he must speak with you, says it's very important.”

"Of course, tell him I'll be there in just a moment," Becca quickly rises from her bed, pulling on a dressing gown so she might speak to him immediately, rather than let him wait while she puts on the tedious layers of princess's attire.

As soon as he sees her, he sweeps into a polite bow. "Your highness,"

"Yes, goodnight, Chief Pierce, what is it you wish to speak of and, quite honestly if you don't mind my asking, where on earth have you been?"

"A day's ride, westwards, all of the Royal Guard's horses came down with a terrible sickness two days ago and I had to personally find the doctor who knows the recipe for a cure. They're doing better now of course, I just got back, but on my way into town, I saw your father and he explained everything. He sent me travelling as fast as I could, actually, he says after considering it during his ride, he wants you to join him, to aid in the negotiations. He hoped I might send you on my fastest horse and take your place here, watching over the kingdom and your brother."

"You're completely sure? He wants me?" Becca tries not to express her confusion. Her father still expects them to ask permission before leaving the castle and only rarely lets _her_ in during important discussions. He doesn’t let Bucky do anything.

"He insisted." Chief Pierce says genuinely, appearing just as confused as she is.

"I see. I'll pack my things right away, and tell my guards."

"It is imperative you leave as soon as possible. Bring only what you need, I'll retrieve a map of the fastest route from the Guards' building, so you may travel swiftly and correctly."

“Yes, thank you, that’s very kind, would you mind also waking my brother?”

"We needn't wake him, your highness, we wouldn’t want to startle him, as no one has been hurt, and I trust you are quite capable of following a map?"

"Yes, yes, of course."

"Then I will relay to him all of tonight's events during breakfast tomorrow morning. It would only keep him up all night to worry him with your leaving."

"Yes, yes, I think you're right, he's been having a rough time of it as it is, with all that's been going on. We ought to let him sleep.

  
Bucky is incredibly startled to find Pierce sitting at his breakfast table the next morning. Chief Pierce is calm and collected as usual, offering Bucky a pleasant smile. "Morning, your highness. How'dya sleep?"

"Fine. Where is my sister?"

"Ah, see, now that's why I'm here. I was on my way back from my own trip, for the horses you see, when I encountered your father's envoy on the road. He sent me with a message for your sister, said he wanted her dearly and that she should immediately leave so she might join him in negotiations."

"What?" Bucky narrows his eyes. His father never accepts help from either of them, much less asks for it. “Are you sure that is what he said, Chief Pierce?”

Pierce only shrugs. "I am very sure and I was just as confused as you are on hearing it. But perhaps this urgent situation has softened his heart some.” Chief Pierce smiles warmly.

Bucky barely conceals a glare. He doesn’t trust Pierce; in fact he's more or less convinced Pierce is a traitor, though that’s not due to any solid evidence, mostly he wants Pierce punished for hurting Steve.

"Well, thank you for carrying my father's message." Bucky says after a short pause, offering a polite nod of his head. "I'm afraid I'm not all that hungry, I think I'll take a walk in the garden instead." He leaves as calmly as he can and Pierce watches him go.

He doesn't go to the garden, of course, he runs to his bedroom and puts on his boots and his cloak and then tries to carefully hurry to the stables, unseen.

That almost works, he's not very sneaky, a single maid sees him, but upon his urging she promises not to tell a soul, saying she's heard much about his kindness.

Once he makes it to the stable, he finds the horse he usually rides. Though it is bare and he hasn't the faintest idea how to attach a saddle to the creature. He's not even sure how to approach it when it's munching hay at its leisure. He curses under his breath. Every time he's ever ridden a horse in his entire life, some poor servant has fetched it for him. For a moment, he thinks he won't even be able to leave town before he is discovered but then he thinks about Steve, asks himself what Steve might do if it was his life in immediate danger.

Eventually, he clambers onto the horse bareback, climbing a little up one of the stable walls so he can reach. The horse is a little startled, but too docile to really be upset, and it politely follows his commands.

He is feeling triumphant as he rides away from the castle at top speed. He is confident he’ll save Steve, right up until he reaches the gates of the city and finds Pierce waiting for him.

Pierce offers him only a smile. "Going somewhere?"

 

Becca tugs the arm of one of her guards, causing him to stop. "No, we mustn't ride so quickly, this map, there's something wrong with it."

"The one Chief Pierce gave us?" says the smaller one, Sir Charles.

"Yes."

"What is it? How do you know?"

"Well, the queen's kingdom seated next to ours, the one where my father is headed, it should be directly west. But this map has us going east and then curling up north and then going east again. Something is very strange about all of this. How could Chief Pierce make such a trip for horses in less than three days, only to accidentally lead us astray on one of the most important missions we've ever received?"

 

The larger of her guards rolls his eyes and mutters, "Was no accident."

"Erik, hush." Sir Charles hisses. But Bec has already heard enough. "What do you mean, Erik? Do speak up."

Sir Erik sighs, seeming bored. "Chief Pierce wants us lost in the woods.” He pauses, glancing at Sir Charles, one hand moving to the hilt of his sword. “Actually, I’ve been ordered to kill both of you once we've been seen far enough off course to pass it off as being eaten by bears in the woods."

Bec stares, unaware of the tears in her eyes. "Erik, you...you..."

He throws her his own crooked smile. "I wouldn't. Maybe when I was younger and stupider. But then he came along and messed with my head." He shoots Sir Charles a friendly glare. "And I’ve got unfinished business to attend to anyway." He takes the map from Becca's hand and tosses it precisely beneath her horse's hooves. "Now lead us, princess, you clearly knew which way to go already. I have the utmost faith in you."

Bec is perfectly aware of and also very embarrassed by the tears now running down her cheeks, but it doesn’t keep her from throwing her arms around Sir Erik’s neck. "Oh, Erik!”

Sir Erik is rather stiff at first but returns her embrace slowly, even if it is more of an attempt to comfort her than an actual desire to hug her.   
She pulls away to wipe her eyes. “You are--you both are, some of the best protection I've ever had." She turns to hug Sir Charles as well. “I do hope, no matter what, we all might remain friends.”  
Sir Charles smiles. “Of course, princess. You have shown us more kindness than either of us has received from anyone else before.”  
Becca takes a moment to offer them both reassuring smiles then wipes her eyes for the last time. “Alright. The morning sun is our guide, let us ride to stop war. I pray that my beloved brother can take care of himself.”

 

They move very quickly across the countryside, being only three people, each with their own horse. They do have to stop for the night though, and Rebecca uses every spare moment she has to make maps of where they’ve been and inquire to Sir Charles and Sir Erik of which guards they can trust.  
The next morning they arrive at the castle’s entrance, only to discover they are behind the King’s envoy by mere minutes.  
“Father!” Bec dismounts her horse and runs to King George. “Did you only just get here?”  
“What on earth are you doing here? Is your brother at home?” The king cannot conceal his bewilderment, shooting a look at her guards like _what the hell_ before turning back to her.  
“My daughter—“  
“Chief Pierce is a traitor!” She blurts out. “Look, I know, I know this sounds very strange, but our guards cannot be trusted, well, I mean some of them. Pierce sent me here, or at least, he pretended to, but his intentions were to have me killed. I only know a few who, without any doubt, are safe to trust—“  
She is interrupted by several trumpets and a man opening the large castle doors.  
She tries to continue but her father tells her firmly to hush as they enter the castle.

After a long walk, down a long hallway, they see the queen waiting for them.

The man who opened the doors stands in between both parties, bowing and making introductions.  
“May I present his majesty King George.” All standing on the queen’s side sweep low bows and curtsies.  
“And to our guests, may I present, her majesty Queen Natasha.”

The bows are returned, save one distressed curtsy from Rebecca.

“It’s good to finally look upon you, King George, I was beginning to think you preferred me dead.”  
“No, of course not, it seems there has only been a slight misunderstanding.”  
“Please, let us proceed into our discussions room.” Queen Natasha nods towards a door but Rebecca finds herself interrupting.  
“Um, please can we not!” she exclaims. Her father turns on her with such ferocity in his eyes she fears he could kill her with a look. “ _My daughter you_ must _be quiet!_ ” he growls.  
But Queen Natasha raises a hand to silence him and walks towards Bec. “Who’s this?”  
King George stiffly announces, “My daughter, Princess Rebecca.”  
“Why weren’t you introduced with your father?”  
“Well, see, up until—“ King George starts but Natasha glares terrifyingly at him.

“I asked her.”  
Becca blinks and swallows, unsure if she even wants to get involved between the natural disasters that are the rulers of each kingdom.  
“Well, see, I’m so sorry to interrupt your majesty, it’s just I’m not supposed to be here and I came anyway because my kingdom—and yours, we are all in grave danger. I believe it is the same man who has tried to have you killed and I am”—her voice cracks—“very afraid he might be tormenting my own brother as we speak.”  
There is a clatter from the back of the group of guards behind the king, as if someone has just been startled into dropping their weapon.  
“Now, I know it is not my place to ask this,” Bec continues, speaking quickly before she loses her nerve. “but I must beg of you, can you help us? I must return at once to see to my own kingdom but we are not strong enough to fight ourselves. I have nothing to offer you, no evidence, nor any gifts to sway you, all I can do is plea for your trust in my words as without at least some semblance of comradery my entire kingdom might be lost.”  
Becca gulps in a breath and curtsies again to the queen.  
The queen’s face remains entirely unreadable as she looks slowly from Bec’s face to the king and his large group of guards.  
Becca fears she might faint.

But then the queen speaks. “With the facts here, might I add, so earnestly presented, I see no other options. Dame Margaret!”

A woman in a full suit of shining armor steps forward from behind the queen, holding her helmet under her arm. “Your majesty?”

“You will lead a small party back to the neighboring kingdom in interest of rescuing their prince. The King and I will follow you there in a slower envoy.  
Leave as soon as your party is assembled. Am I clear?”  
“Yes, madam.”  
“Oh, and Peggy, take our horses, I’m sure they’re faster.”  
Dame Margaret grins at Queen Natasha and bows before marching towards the group of King’s guards.  
“Alright! You heard the queen, I need a _small_ group, no more than six, who will join me in rescuing the prince?”

Before Dame Margaret can even point at someone to bring along a very small guard shoves his way to the front, looking more fearless than seems entirely reasonable.  
“I would like to go, Miss.”   
She glances down at him. “You’re awfully small.”  
He nods, his jaw set and determined.  
She only smiles. “It means your horse will move faster. Welcome to the party, Sir.” She clasps his hand firmly. “Dame Margaret, at your service.”  
“Thank you,” he seems relieved. “Sir Steven. How soon do we leave?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much guys. really, thank you. i'm so happy that people are still looking for more chapters and i'm gonna finish this i promise, i'm just slow and derpy and eternally discouraged.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oh no bucky oh no

Pierce had told Bucky, "Come quietly and I won't hurt you."

Bucky had not come quietly. He had tried to make a run for it, then gone only kicking and screaming as he was tackled, dragged by the hair and finally knocked unconscious on Pierce's order.

He awakens in what he knows to be the castle dungeon, not that they've used it recently, he went down there once as a child. It was on a dare, he and Bec had never actually been allowed down there.

He has time to slowly recall all of this before he hears a groan from another one of the cells and is roused enough to try moving.

He finds he is shackled, loosely, to the wall.

His head feels as if it is not actually flesh and bone, but wooden, just kind of knocking around both uselessly and painfully. It takes him two tries just to sit up, and after five attempts on standing, he just gives up and stays seated. He's pretty sure there's a dish with food in it by the cell bars but he ignores it, he feels too sick to eat anyway.

For a long time he just sits still, then he hears a door open. Pierce appears in front of the bars.

"Well, well, look who's up."

Bucky is not sure he can speak but tries to say something, just to check. "Water." is what comes out. He's glad that's what came to mind, he's so thirsty and he's sure if he could just get a glass of water he wouldn’t feel so sick.

Pierce just laughs as he enters the cell. "Pathetic." 

Bucky is trying to think clearly enough to make some retort about literally needing it to live when he is snapped to attention by Pierce lifting him by the hair. He shouts in pain.

Pierce smiles warmly. "You know, you've been a little shit since you were born, James. It drove me crazy, watching your spoiled ass run around this place like you owned it. You did own it of course. But now," Pierce pauses to loop the chains to Bucky's shackles around a hook in the ceiling, so he's hanging, toes barely brushing the ground, arms above his head. "But now, I own this place. I sent your sister on a journey with a rather...permanent destination, if you know what I mean." Pierce smiles and wiggles his eyebrows.

Bucky tries to stifle a shout of anger and struggles against his restraints. How long has he been asleep? Becca can't be dead. She’s not an idiot.

 

"And your father, pff, well, he practically took care of himself, going to that crazy bitch's kingdom. One of my men will murder her while he's there, and with their beloved queen being killed during your father's visit, I mean, there's no question to their suspicions. It'll be an all-out war. And your father's a little old for war, don't you think?" Pierce laughs softly. "Think he'll even try to fight? Or just send others in to battle like the coward he is?"

"Shut up!" Bucky swings enough to kick but Pierce dodges, shaking his head.

“I knew you would cause me trouble the second I met you. I was right, I can’t be king unless you’re silenced, politics you know, the people will want a successor the royal family adored. And I may be cunning enough to devise this whole plan, but even I can’t make you like me. So, my last option is to have you killed. Personally, I don’t mind, Brock is thrilled to have a new playtoy. But you’ll still be causing me difficulties, explaining your disappearance is truly one of the greatest feats I'll ever execute. It’s like all you do is cause trouble for others, James.”

Bucky glares defiantly, though he can feel his heart beating fast with fear.

"Don't worry, it won't be that bad. I mean," Pierce smiles. "So, long as you don't mind excruciating pain." Pierce pats Bucky's cheek encouragingly and turns to leave, calling out "Rumlow, get in here." As he goes.

Rumlow enters the room with a grin on his face. Bucky recognizes Rumlow as Chief Pierce's assistant, Sir Brock. Bucky starts to wonder if Steve is the only guard who's never harbored hatred for the royal family.

Bucky feels panic growing in his stomach as Rumlow starts removing his bulky armor, keeping his gauntlets on. Bucky struggles fiercely but it seems there is no hope of escape.

He glances everywhere around him, hoping for anything that might help. He can hear Rumlow talking, saying something about liking the way he looks when he's terrified but he ignores him, feeling himself start to twist, desperately.

But then Rumlow is close, grabbing his chin roughly. "Stay still." He growls and Bucky tries to obey at first but then he thinks about his sister. He thinks about his sister and his father and _Steve._ If he could just get out of here he could spare at least one of their lives. If he could just get out.

He twists quickly, holding on to the chains for leverage and lifting himself enough to kick Rumlow in the abdomen with both feet. Rumlow hits the ground hard and skids backwards slightly, looking dazed. Bucky's heart is lightened with triumph but then he realizes he still has to escape his handcuffs and starts struggling desperately. The cuffs are massive and he thinks if he pulls hard enough he might just be able to force his thumbs through. It'll hurt like hell but he doubts it'll hurt half as much as whatever Rumlow has planned for him.

He swears he can feel his hand slipping out, but it's too late.

Rumlow has gotten back on his feet again. He is approaching fast.

Bucky tries to breathe calmly and keep squirming but he can't. Rumlow is face to face with him now, far too close, he can feel his breath. 

"Trying to slip out, pretty boy?" Rumlow snarls.

Bucky trembles and tries to back up but Rumlow puts an arm around him and holds him still. "Maybe you can, but you're gonna need help. Allow me." Rumlow laughs softly to himself.

Rumlow unhooks him from the ceiling, then pushes him against the wall face first. Bucky can feel the stone scraping up his skin and struggles relentlessly.

"You just gotta pull real hard on the cuffs, that's all." Rumlow grabs the cuff on his left hand and starts twisting it backwards and towards Bucky’s shoulders, with his hand still trapped inside it.

At first it's just annoying like a game of uncle but then Rumlow starts pulling his hand farther and Bucky can feel the immediate pain of straining against bone.

"Wait!" he gasps frantically, desperate instinct kicking in. "Stop, stop, st-stopstopstop!" He thrashes against Rumlow’s grasp but he can't do anything but scream as Rumlow takes his time, slowly, slowly, bending his arm farther and farther.

The snap echoes a little when it finally comes and Bucky is sobbing against the wall.

Rumlow just smiles, releasing him and letting him fall to the ground.

“Rest up." Rumlow nudges him with his foot. "Pierce said I could do whatever I like with you. I'll be back tomorrow.”  
Bucky lies on the ground for a long time, his now broken arm tucked close to his chest. When he closes his eyes he can see Steve smiling bashfully at him and his arm doesn’t hurt so much. But then he remembers, Steve might already be dead and he feels like dying too.

There’s a high window in the cell across from his. It had been letting in dusty shafts of sunlight when Rumlow was there earlier, but now it’s dark.

Bucky wonders if Rumlow will kill him or just keep him down here for the hell of it. He can feel himself shaking, tears swelling in his eyes as the hopelessness of the situation actualizes in his mind.

Everyone is gone. No one even knows there’s reason to distrust the guards and his whole family is going to die if they’re not dead already.

He cries for at least an hour, and he’s embarrassed about it, even though he knows it’s justified. Then he wonders what Steve would do, if he were the one chained up in a basement.

_Has Steve been chained up in a basement?_

The thought makes him feel sick but after seeing the way Pierce beat him, he starts to wonder. He starts to feel furious.

Bucky thinks maybe he won’t get through the night, he thinks maybe he’ll die of sadness but eventually he can see the sunlight peeking in through the window.

He starts to shift anxiously, hoping Sir Brock didn’t mean it when he said he’d be back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys, I am fully aware this chapter is kind of short and lame but you know whatevsies it's fic and my mind is on NaNoWriMo


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> well somebody ought to save the kingdom gaawd.

"Sir Steven! Sir Steven!" Dame Margaret calls more than once before finally whistling to Steve's horse to get it to stop and turn around. Steve is bewildered and seems almost angry when he speaks to her. "What? What is it? Why are we stopping?" After a half second's pause he adds. "Dame Margaret." In a calmer tone. "Why are we stopping?"

"I'm sorry, I know you must be worried about your charge but the sun is setting, we have to stop for the night, Sir Steven."

For a minute Steve considers acting like a child, considers saying ‘I don't wanna stop!’ and riding off as fast as he can. But he knows he has to. He knows riding through the night will leave him exhausted and he wants to be ready for beating the shit out of Pierce.

"Yeah, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I just…” He takes a deep breath and Dame Margaret gives him an understanding look before dismounting and lifting out the supplies to make camp.

Steve is pretty useless in setting up their place to sleep, he tries to help but he's distracted enough that even one of Becca’s guard’s notices.

Eventually they are all circled around a campfire and for a brief moment Steve finds relief in the people that came with him. 

He doesn't know Dame Margaret very well but there is something about her that seems reliable, a sort of fire in her that isn’t so much destructive, but warm. She seems lively, though well contained. Steve likes her.

Right after Steve volunteered, Becca did too, which brought a little outrage, unsurprisingly, on her father's part. He was quieted though, when she pointed out she wasn't supposed to be there in the first place and that she actually should head back home as soon as possible.  Her guards, Sir Charles and Sir Erik had followed of course, though Steve suspects they might've come anyway, Sir Erik seems to have a particular vendetta against Chief Pierce.

At first, the campfire is very grave and quiet, as is fitting for their current predicament, but Becca, being the darling she is, tries to make some small talk which is ill received mostly, but after several subject changes causes Sir Erik to make a vulgar joke about a past girlfriend, which makes Sir Charles spit up his drink, which makes the rest of them burst into hearty laughter. It is wonderful and relieving, as every laugh so desperately needed must be.

Steve is grounded in that slightly, it brings him some comfort to see his companions laugh in such a very sad time and together, they manage to keep the darkness at bay, until they all part to get some sleep.

Steve doesn't really sleep at all, he just jitters and wishes he could teleport.

 

Steve is much more useful in breaking down their camp than he was setting it up, packing everything away so fast the others are a little shocked, but he can't seem to care, he just climbs on to his horse and announces he is ready.

They ride for hours and Steve knows that the others feel their fatigue more than he feels his own.

All of them lighten up however, when they finally see the city walls and at last, ride up to the castle gates.

Steve wants to get Bucky out then set the whole place on fire but he controls himself, turning to the others.

“Chief Pierce will be hiding somewhere safe, he doesn’t like getting his hands dirty. We need a distraction to scatter their ranks and draw Pierce out.”

Steve is a little surprised when all four of the others let him lead with no argument, despite him being the lowest ranking amongst them.  
“What do you suggest, Sir?” Dame Margaret says.  
Steve pauses and bites his lip. Then finds himself offering a small smile. “Your highness, can we borrow your cloak?”

 

Bucky spends the whole morning watching yellow shafts of sunlight filter through the grimy dungeon window. They make him feel a little calmer, they remind him of Steve, they give him some small hope, which he knows is unreasonable, but he feels like somehow if the sun still shines, Steve still breathes, somewhere. He knows it's probably just the pain driving him mad, but he can't imagine a world without Steve just the same way he can't imagine a world without sunshine and it works.

Sir Brock doesn't come back till midafternoon. When he does, Bucky is afraid, but finds the simplicity of being repeatedly kicked or punched to be easier to handle than listening to anyone talk about his family being dead.

Rumlow does talk the whole time of course, but it is entirely inane tough-guy talk and Bucky easily ignores it.

Bucky thinks he might actually be adjusting to the pain in fact, until Rumlow pulls out a knife and starts taking things slow.

Bucky is shaking and trying to remember how to breathe when Rumlow stops suddenly and stands bolt upright.

Bucky wishes he were tough enough to make a remark, to say something smart about Rumlow being distracted, but he’s not. He can’t think and he’s starting to understand what people mean when they say they’ll make you beg for death.

But then he hears it too. There are men shouting upstairs.

 

Chief Pierce is strongly considering just massacring his remaining men and ruling an empty kingdom. His room is hidden in the top of one of the castle towers and he’s only safe while inside it, leaving to see what the hell is going on means he’s no longer hidden.

But the shouting downstairs hasn’t stopped yet and finally Pierce hears the inevitable frantic knock on the secret door.  
“Um, um, Chief Pierce, Sir? Chief Pierce, I know we’re not supposed to bother you but um, uh, it’s the princess sir, she’s here.”

Chief Pierce sits up in alarm but easily composes himself before opening the door.

“What the hell are you talking about?” He says, severely, but calmly.

“She’s riding around the castle, just her, her guards aren’t there, do you think—“

“No. Show me.”

The man leads him downstairs to the hallway and points out the window. He recognizes the princess’s usual black horse and her long turquoise cloak, billowing out behind her as she rides around the castle.

Pierce frowns.

“What’s she doing, sir?” says the man, still seeming a little afraid he might be punished for this mishap.

Pierce watches as the horse is led forward, then back again, then towards the hedges in the garden. “She’s looking for a place to hide.”

Pierce walks back to his room, the man following him. “Apprehend her.” He says as he retrieves his sword. “But take a group, I don’t trust this.”

The man nods quickly and runs downstairs, shouting orders to others.

Pierce again takes his place at the window, watching as a group rushes out towards the princess.

 

Sir Erik watches from his spot in the bushes as the men converge on the horse. He recognizes some of them as guards, crooked ones anyway, and others are simply strangers to him. He knows Pierce has been planning this for a while, and at least some of them will go in for suicide attacks without a second thought, their options being win or face the wrath of Chief Pierce.

The guards surround the horse, one purposefully scaring it bad enough to make it rear up and cast its rider off into the bushes.

Sir Erik cannot help but smile as the situation unfolds.

The guard who scared the horse grabs its reins to calm it and manages to say, “Wait, this isn’t the princess’s horse,” before Sir Charles casts off the princess’s cloak and slashes at the men surrounding him.

Sir Charles aims well, hitting three men in the legs just below their chainmail. Two of them go down immediately, the other retaliates but Sir Charles can easily block, he’s sparred with most of these men before.

Sir Erik smiles, he knows from experience it’s easiest to fight against your own team.

He waits until an opponent has Sir Charles pinned before revealing himself and taking the man out.

Sir Charles and Sir Erik fight easily together, and defeat all their assailants before running into the castle and shouting that they cannot be defeated, most obnoxiously, which attracts only more attention.

 

Steve is incredibly impressed at how quietly Dame Margaret can move in her armor, following him from the empty kitchens into the castle without making a sound, not that much could be heard over the ruckus upstairs.

He easily leads her through the least trafficked areas, the servants’ routes through the castle.

He’s just starting to wonder where they all are when he hears a noise and freezes, silently motioning for Dame Margaret to stop as well.

“Do you hear that?” He murmurs.

She nods towards a closet. “In there.”  
They approach slowly, both at the ready, swiftly opening the door. They are greeted only with a sob though, and a servant boy curled up on the floor.

They both soften their stances almost instantly, Dame Margaret kneeling down so she is level with the boy.

“Shh, shh, we’re not here to hurt you.” She reaches out cautiously at first but after enough inspection to see her kindness the boy throws himself into her arms.

“Th-they were shouting at us and he took my mom away, he--he took her away and everybody else, I don’t know where everybody went, and—and I just want my mom,” the boy snuffles and gasps for breath as he talks.

“Shhhh, don’t worry. I’m going to help, my name is Peggy, and I’m your friend, alright?”

The boy nods, scrubbing at his eyes.

“You can stay with me, you don’t have to hide in the closet, alright?”

The boy shakes his head, still wiping his eyes on his sleeve. “He-he told me to hide in here.”  
The boy suddenly grows pale and still, as Dame Margaret frowns. “Who did?”

“Him.” He points and both Steve and Dame Margaret nearly jump out of their skin as they see Chief Pierce standing behind them.

Pierce just laughs warmly as if he’s joking with a nephew. “What’d you do that for kid, you ruined the surprise.”

Steve and Dame Margaret both move in front of the child, raising their weapons.

“You,” Pierce glares at Steve. “You should be dead, it’s a miracle you even survived the journey _there_ , you golden hearted little invalid,” he glares at Dame Margaret. “and you, who the hell are you?”

“Dame Margaret of her majesty’s Royal Force. I take it you’re Alexander Pierce.”  
“That’s Chief Pierce to you, young lady.”  
“I don’t feel that a murderer deserves such a title.” Dame Margaret quirks an eyebrow at him like a dare and he takes it, lunging at her with a dagger Steve never even saw him draw.

She dodges easily, skillfully holding her sword and looking more excited than afraid. She offers Steve only a glance and says, “Take the child.” Before she returns Pierce’s lunge.

Steve nods and grabs the child’s hand, leaving without hesitation and trusting, _praying_ that she can handle herself.

He’s moving almost faster than the poor servant boy can keep up with when he is startled by a cry from behind a door and a maid emerging out of nowhere. “My boy!” She exclaims as she scoops the child up.

The boy is just as happy to see her and for a moment, Steve’s heart is warmed and filled with relief, but it is most horribly interrupted by scream from a door down the hall.

Both the maid and the child flinch.

“What’s behind that door??” Steve asks urgently.  
“The dungeon, sir.” The maid looks down solemnly. “Seems like he’s been screamin’ all afternoon.”

 

Bucky gasps for breath and tries vaguely to struggle out of Rumlow’s grasp. He knows there’s nothing he can do, one arm is shackled firmly to the wall and the other, which has been purposely stepped on twice since Rumlow originally broke it yesterday, is worse than useless.

But he tries anyway, there has been lots and _lots_ of noise upstairs and he has been reinvigorated by the hint of panic in Rumlow’s eyes upon hearing it.

Rumlow grits his teeth and focuses on tracing Bucky’s collar bone with a knife.

“N-n-nervous, aren’t you?” Bucky pants, trying to be still again.  
“You shut up, pretty boy.” Rumlow twists the blade and it scrapes bone.

Bucky screams for a moment, unable to control it, but a soon as the dots and splotches fade from his vision he taunts Rumlow again.

“Wh-what are you…more afraid of?” he pauses to gulp in a breath. “Us beating you or—or Pierce making you h-his bitch?”

Rumlow growls but before he can inflict any more pain they are both interrupted by a small voice from the door to the dungeon.  
“Bucky?”  
Bucky is elated enough to forget all pain for a moment and can’t help straining against his cuffs in a desperate attempt to see outside his cell. “Steve?! Steve?!”

The cell door is open, no need for it to be closed when Bucky is chained to a wall. Steve is inside and standing in front of them before Bucky can even say his name again.

They are both almost unbearably overjoyed to see each other alive, and for a moment Steve is not sure if his eyes are tearing up out of happiness to see Bucky still breathing or sadness to see Bucky so viciously torn apart.

But then Rumlow turns towards Steve, knife still in hand, and as he straightens his spine Bucky can see Rumlow is easily twice Steve’s size.

But Steve just fights, like he always has, fearlessly and surprisingly well for his size. He fights as if death is no large matter, nothing so important as the cause he is fighting for.

And for a second, he’s winning.

He’s faster than Rumlow and wearing more protection, he slashes him twice and lands more than a few punches.

But burly as he is, Rumlow only needs to hit Steve a couple times to throw him off his game.

Bucky actually _wants_ to scream now, desperately shaking his cuffed hand in an attempt to get free and help Steve.

Steve doesn’t expect or await help though, he continues to fight, he takes punches, but he also manages to wound Rumlow rather seriously with his sword.

Rumlow knows he’s weakened by the pain and the alarming amount of blood now spilling from his abdomen on to the floor.

So he moves quickly, slashing out not at Steve but at Bucky.

Steve yelps and moves in his way immediately, just distracted enough to fail to dodge a brutal kick to the torso, which sends him flying backwards before slamming into the wall, hard and then crumpling on to the floor by Bucky’s feet.

Bucky screams, everything he’s experienced in the past two days suddenly seems like nothing compared to the pain of seeing Steve battered on the floor, with Rumlow approaching fast and lifting his dagger for the final blow.

Bucky has never felt more rage and panic and absolute hatred in his life. He thrashes and he hears an audible cracking noise, but he ignores it. His right hand is now free from its cuff and he uses it to grab Rumlow’s helmet from the pile of armor in the corner and hits Rumlow in the back of the head with it as hard as he possibly can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually had a lot of fun writing this guys I really hope it's enjoyable and exciting and everything the big fight scenes should be. Thanks so much for reading.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay guys, this is it, it's not very long, but I hope it's good enough.

Steve opens his eyes quickly, sitting up and reaching for a sword that isn’t there.

He’s still confused even as a hand pushes him back down, gently.

“Shhhhhhh, it’s okay, Stevie.” Says Bucky’s voice.

Steve blinks slowly, letting out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “Bucky.”

Steve is lying in a soft bed, in a sunlit room. Bucky is sitting next to him, right hand resting across Steve gently. Bucky looks as if he has been to hell and back, bandaged and bruised, his left arm encased in a twist of fabric bandages and wooden splints.

He’s smiling but it fades into a frown as he speaks, “Hey, whoa, hey, don’t cry.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve says in a voice cracked and gravelly. “I’m sorry,” he repeats as he tries desperately to wipe the tears on his sleeves. “I just love you so much.”

Bucky starts to laugh, though his eyes are getting damp too. “Steve, you’re ridiculous.”

Steve huffs out a laugh. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,”  
Bucky leans forward and kisses Steve’s forehead. “I love you too.”

For a moment they both just sort of laugh and sob, holding hands like they have to just to stay alive.

Then the door opens, Bec is halfway through hurrying in when she sees them and stops abruptly, blushing.

Steve jumps and gets red but Bucky pats his hand to still him. “She knows.”

“I’m sorry, am I interrupting?” Becca says, still pink but grinning at them.

“No, not at all. Steve just woke up.” Bucky leans back in his chair, still holding Steve’s hand.

“I can see. I’m relieved.” She laughs a little nervously. “Erik and Charles won’t leave me alone about it, I was actually coming to see how he was doing.”

Steve blinks. “Sir Erik? I thought he hated me.”

Bec laughs whole heartedly. “People keep saying that about him. Dame Margaret is very worried as well.”  
Steve sits up abruptly again. “Peggy! Is she alright??”  
Becca smiles. “She’s fine. She was wounded but in much better shape than you. You and James gave all of us a scare, honestly.”

Steve looks sheepish for a moment, but it passes quickly. “Wait, what about Sir Brock?”

Becca and Bucky both look down, and Becca slowly announces Sir Brock did not survive the night.

Quite to their surprise, Steve just breathes a sigh of relief. “As long as we’re safe. Chief Pierce is also taken care of?”

“Yes, he’s in the dungeon, in the very same cell you raided to save Bucky yesterday.”

Steve nods, then looks up at Rebecca timidly. “I’m very glad everyone is well enough to pass time by worrying for me, but, if you don’t mind, your highness, I’d appreciate a moment more alone, with Bucky.”

Becca blinks, then smiles and agrees easily and leaves without protest.

Bucky smiles, moving from his chair to sit on Steve’s bed, but Steve brushes him away, trying to slide out of the bed.

“Hey, whoa, what are you doing?” Bucky tries to pull him back but he swats at him.

“It’s important. I have to be down here for this.” Steve struggles to get down to one knee on the floor.   
“Steve—“ Bucky stammers, though not unhappy as Steve gently takes his hand.

“I’m not gonna lie, Buck,” a rose color blooms in Steve’s cheeks. “I don’t have a ring, I don’t have anything, hell, I’m not even sure how I ended up in these clothes,” Steve laughs nervously as he glances down at himself. “but, I would be happy for all my years, if only—“ he swallows “—I could have you. Your royal highness, Prince James, will you marry me?”

Bucky hesitates not even for an instant, murmuring “Of course.” Before half yanking Steve to his feet and giving him a kiss that could best be described as cinematic.

 

“Are you serious?? Congratulations!!” Bec is the first to know, the next day when Steve and Bucky are well enough to be walking around.

She seems just as joyful as they are, but it fades quickly. “Oh dear, have you talked to father?”

Bucky has the same reaction, grimacing and shaking his head.

But Steve just smiles. “I’m not worried about him, your highness. After what I've faced, after what me _and_ Bucky have faced, together, I’m prepared for whatever he wants to do with me.”  
“Which will be something pleasant, so help me god.” Bucky mutters.

Bec laughs and offers them lighthearted though not entirely sincere reassurances, just as Sir Clinton emerges from a hallway.

“Sir Steven! There you are, I’m supposed to be helping you with your uniform.” He offers a slight bow, cheerful despite the black eye marked clearly on his face.

Becca is grieved to see it. “Sir Clinton! Whatever happened to you?”  
Clint just grins. “Queen Natasha hit me.”  
Steve laughs. “Progress, then?”

Clint bobs his head. “First time she didn’t have Dame Maria do it for her.”

“You’re insane.” Bucky rests his hand in his pocket. “But then again, I’m about to ask my father’s permission to marry a servant boy on a farm, so I guess I can relate.”

“Ah, so you two are finally going official?”

Steve turns pink. “How did you know about us?”  
Clint snickers. “How could I not?”

It becomes apparent Rebecca is also trying to hide giggles and Steve just looks away, his blush growing worse.

Clint offers a sincere smile to Bucky. “I wouldn’t be too worried, though. After today’s ceremony he won’t be some servant boy, he’ll be Chief Rogers. Speaking of which, you need to get dressed.” Clint bows to the siblings and leaves with Steve.

Steve’s outfit is very handsome and noble looking, Bucky notes, not long later in the throne room. It’s just a little bit adorable too, especially as he stands in front of King George’s throne, his back to the admiring crowd, bubbling with pride and happiness.

His father gives a very flattering speech about Steve’s bravery and strength in rescuing Bucky, all of which Bucky thinks is perfectly accurate, though it makes Steve blush.

Then Steve is bestowed with a fancy helmet and a large and beautiful sword, before being officially pronounced Chief and Leader of His Majesty’s Royal Guard.

There’s a feast afterwards, for celebration and because it is the custom when royalty from another kingdom is visiting.

Bucky has barely even seen the queen, though she’s only been here a day and he’s been resting so that’s not saying much. He watches her now, at one end of the long table, graceful and disconcerting in some way, some underlying danger in her movements.

But then Steve’s hand curls around his, under the table and Peggy makes some slight remark that causes Steve to laugh so hard he has to pause for breath and Bucky feels as if nothing bad can ever happen again, so long as he is right here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone so, so, SO much. Writing this story has been pretty fun and more importantly has sort of reminded that I can write.  
> Thank you to everyone who read it, left kudos, left comments, it means the world to me.


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